


Muse FM

by cleflink



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Radio, Basically everything and the kitchen sink, M/M, Radio Host Jensen, Security Guard Jared, mafia, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 10:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 33,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11507676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleflink/pseuds/cleflink
Summary: Jared's job is boring, boring, boring. As a night security guard, he protects empty buildings by sitting on his ass and watching the security cameras while listening to a lot of talk radio. Not exactly the life he dreamed of for himself but hey, it's a living.When he gets chosen for a new job babysitting the front desk at Muse FM radio station, Jared's mostly expecting more of the same. He's not expecting Jensen, the mysterious, hoodie-wearing host of Muse FM's overnight show, to catch his interest quite so thoroughly, or to be quite so difficult to figure out. He's not expecting so many unanswered questions about what, exactly, he's supposed to be protecting Jensen from. He's also not expecting to care so much about either of those things.Oh, and he's definitely not expecting the monsters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2017 round of [SPN_J2_BigBang](spn_j2_bigbang.livejournal.com) with art by the amazingly talented dollarformyname!

When Jim told him that his next job was going to be babysitting the security desk at Muse FM, Jared answered with, "Oh, the one with the monster show," and got a weird look for his trouble. 

"You've heard of 'em?" Jim asked. 

Jared shrugged. "Sort of. Their overnight show is this scripted fiction thing where the DJ pretends monsters are real. Talks about, like, fairy rights and the dragon migrations and stuff. I've caught it a few times. What?" he asked, when Jim arched an eyebrow. "You try watching the walls on the third shift every night and see if you don't start looking for something to do." 

"Been there, done that," Jim said. He paused, before adding, "Schlocky horror radio doesn't really sound like your thing, is all." 

Somehow, Jared got the impression that it wasn't what Jim had originally had in mind.

Which wasn't to say that the words didn't hit where it hurt. "It's surprisingly entertaining," he said, trying not to sound defensive and failing utterly. 

"Right," Jim said, drawling the word out just to be an asshole. "Well, either way, you're their new weeknight security detail as of Monday." 

"Works for me. Who's got the day shift?"

"No one. They want third shift coverage only."

Jared frowned. "That's weird. They say _why_ they suddenly need third shift coverage and nothing else?"

"No," Jim said, a wealth of things unsaid carried in that single word. 

"But you think there's something they're not saying," Jared intuited.

Jim snorted. "No one hires security just because. Of course there's something they're not saying. You up for dealing with it?"

Jared offered him a grin. "Guess we'll find out."

Jim clapped him on the back. "Good man. You let me know if anything weird goes on, and we'll pull the plug on the contract, y'hear? Don't want you getting in over your head."

"Of course," Jared said, privately thinking that the chance would be a fine thing.

The thing was that Jared's job was really not interesting.

He'd initially become a security guard to help pay his way through school, only to find that it ultimately paid better than any of the jobs that he was qualified for with his shiny new degree in English Literature. It also required mostly no effort to do, which he'd appreciated greatly after the madness of college.

Nearly a decade later, the salary was looking rather less generous, but it was still enough to live on, and Jared had always been more of a night owl, so working the third shift was no great hardship. Despite what _Die Hard_ had taught him, however, it was also boring as hell, which meant that he'd had to become very creative about finding things to do to pass the time. Hence his newfound fondness for overnight radio shows. Muse FM's in particular.

Of course, if he was being honest, Jared had to admit that the main reason it was his favourite was because the DJ sounded like someone ought to be paying him for phone sex. Jared would put up with a hell of a lot of yammering about fake monster politics to get to listen to _that_ voice for a couple of hours a night.

What? So Jared was shallow sometimes. He had to entertain himself somehow.

And speaking of which…

"Good evening, listeners," the DJ purred, right on time. God bless live streaming. "This is the Witching Hour and I'm your host, Jensen. Thanks for tuning in. Here's tonight's thought to ponder: should warlocks be protected under Unseelie retribution laws? Call in with your opinions, folks! And in the meantime, let's start off the night with some urban jazz " 

Jared settled himself more comfortably in his chair, keeping his eyes fixed on the bank of computer monitors while the sound of saxophones and drums echoed through the empty lobby of GoreTec Industries. Mike was off doing floor sweeps, so there was no one around to judge Jared for his esoteric radio tastes. Or his much more discerning taste in smoky-voiced DJs.

It wasn't long before Jensen's voice came back on the air, the rolling timbre of it enough to send a shiver down Jared's spine. "That was Richard Elliot with 'Lip Service'," Jensen said, grin clear in his voice. "Which seemed like an appropriate choice given our topic du jour. And here's our first caller of the night: Lindsay! So, Lindsay, where do you stand on the question of warlocks and legal protection?"

"I don't think they should be counted under Unseelie law," said Lindsay, who sounded 20 at the most. "Like, those laws are there to protect the fae when their retribution goes wrong, right? Warlocks aren't bound by the same rules of hospitality and retribution as the fae, so why should they get the same legal protection? They're double-dipping."

Honestly, the thing that Jared was most impressed about on the Witching Hour - aside from how endlessly creative their writers seemed to be about making up fake monster news - was how good the callers were at playing along. Whoever screened the calls before they went on air must have been a frigging genius because there was no way that they didn't get bullshit prank callers all the time.

Frankly, he was a little surprised that there seemed to be so many people willing to play along with fake monster radio. He suspected that they were mostly bored goths. Who else would be awake and listening to Jensen McHot Voice talk about warlocks at 1 o'clock in the morning? 

Besides Jared, of course. 

"All good points," Jensen said, when this Lindsay finally ran out of steam. "But I think it's important to remember that warlocks don't benefit from most of the Salem Protections, even though they arguably should. Can it really be considered double dipping if most of the laws for spell casters purposefully omit warlocks?"

"Yeah, but-"

Jared let his attention drift while Jensen played devil's advocate with his caller, thoughts turning to his new assignment. There was a lot to think about.

An embarrassingly large part of him was excited about meeting Jensen in person. He'd never been the type to get star-struck, but there was something about Jensen - his gorgeous voice and his ridiculous fictional radio program - that compelled Jared's attention. Not to mention that he couldn't help but wonder if the man was as hot as he sounded - statistically unlikely, but a guy could dream, right? 

The rest of him was concerned about the job itself. Because, quite honestly, the whole situation seemed sketchy as fuck. 

The way Jim had explained it, Muse FM was on the second floor of an office block that had its own security at the front entrance and throughout the building. Which meant that, by rights, they should have gone to _that_ security company for extra coverage, rather than contracting Jared for weekdays and Tom for weekends. Not to mention the fact that no one paid out of pocket for extra security unless there was something specific they needed protecting from.

It also meant that Jared would be working essentially solo for the first time, and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. There would still be security in the building, obviously, but they'd be strangers to him, and he'd likely only see them when someone arrived to cover his breaks. Nobody he'd know he could trust.

Like he said: sketchy as fuck.

The lone active elevator chose that moment to ding, heralding Mike's return to the lobby. Jared glanced at his laptop, which was still broadcasting Jensen's thoughts about warlocks, and considered turning it off for all of two seconds before deciding that he couldn't be bothered. He could listen to what he wanted when he was manning the desk; those were the rules.

Mike, of course, had hardly even made it out of the elevator before he was complaining.

"Oh my god, Jared, are you listening to this weirdo monster crap again? Why can't you watch porn at the desk like a normal security guard?"

Then again, maybe there was something to be said for the chance to work alone for once.

Four days later found Jared in the lobby of a building he'd never really noticed despite his familiarity with the area, trying not to quail under the glare of the mountain masquerading as a human being at the security desk.

"Can I help you?" the guy asked, in a voice that was very nearly as craggy as his face. His tone suggested that he doubted it very much.

Jared's first attempt at speaking definitely didn't come out an octave higher than usual, honest. "Uh, I'm from Gamble and Kripke Security," he said, gesturing at the insignia on his uniform mostly for the sake of having something to do with his hands. "I, er, I've been hired by Muse FM to, uh, man their security desk?" Provided they even had a security desk, Jared realized belatedly, even if now was so not the time to be wondering about it. 

The security mountain gave him a narrow-eyed look, and Jared resisted the urge to either quail or glare back in response. Neither option was likely to put him in this guy's good graces, after all.

He settled for a look of calm determination. "I was told that I'd be liaising with a Daniel Harris?"

"It's Danneel, actually," an amused and decidedly female voice said from his left. Jared turned to see a startlingly pretty woman in a business jacket and skirt approaching him, one hand extended. "Head of security for the Olympican Building."

"Jared Padalecki," Jared answered in kind. Danneel's grip was firm and no-nonsense, and Jared could feel the edge of gun callouses on her fingers. "Nice to meet you."

"Don't worry about Clif," Danneel said, with a distinctly impish grin as she canted her head toward the security guard. "His bark's worse than his bite."

Clif snorted. "You keep right on thinking that," he said, but made no further objection as Danneel led Jared away from the desk and towards an office that he hadn't noticed.

"Let's get the paperwork out of the way, and then I'll give you the tour." 

It took the better part of half an hour to get through the normal contract rigmarole, and then Jared followed along after Danneel like a lost puppy as she led the way up to the third floor, which was apparently entirely the domain of Muse FM.

As it turned out, Muse FM _did_ have its own security desk. Not an especially good one, mind, but it was better than having to ask for a supply cupboard to hide in. Jared couldn't really say that he'd even given much thought about what a radio station looked like, so he gazed around with interest as Danneel showed him around the rabbit warren of offices and production rooms, culminating their tour with the main recording studio. 

"We can't go in right now," she said apologetically, with a gesture at the solid red light over the door. "The evening show is broadcasting live."

"That's fine." Jared looked at the door to the recording studio or, more precisely, at the metal shutters that covered the windows. They looked like they'd be able to withstand a shot from a grenade launcher, which was serious overkill for a radio station. "Those shutters seem kind of… intense."

Danneel spread her arms in a 'what can you do?' gesture. "Guess they want to make sure the equipment is safe. Let me show you where you can store your things," she said then, which was possibly the most blatantly obvious conversation segue Jared had ever heard. "Then I'll get you settled at the desk."

Jared decided to let it go for now, although he privately resolved to poke his nose into everything he could get away with until he figured out what was going on here. Ten minutes later found him ensconced at the security desk in the lobby, which boasted a single monitor that cycled through four security cameras and plenty of empty space for Jared to sprawl out into.

"Muse FM runs a very limited amount of all night programming, so it's mostly a skeleton crew round here for the third shift; they don't need a lot of staff on hand to handle it," Danneel told him. "There's a list of approved personnel in your orientation package, but you'll probably only ever see a handful of them. Oh, and early birds among the morning crew."

The radio clipped to Danneel's belt chose that moment to sputter to life, and she barely glanced at him as she turned towards the elevator. "Can you handle things here?"

Jared nodded. "Sure."

"I'll check in a little later, see how you're doing." She flashed a quick smile over her shoulder. "Welcome to the team, Jared."

"Thanks," Jared answered, and then she was gone, leaving him alone in the cramped lobby.

"Well," he said to the empty room. "So far so good."

In Jared's experience, guarding a building that was actually open during the third shift wasn't usually much different than guarding an empty one. Oh, he'd worked at trucking depots and the like that had traffic coming through at all hours of the day and night, but most businesses received substantially less front door traffic in the middle of the night.

It didn't take long to determine that Muse FM was little different from the norm. Jared sat behind the desk, alternately playing Angry Birds on his phone and watching the elevator display light up with an occasional passenger. None of them stopped on the third floor.

It was all so utterly uneventful that Jared actually startled when, just before midnight, the elevator dinged open, unexpectedly loud in the relative silence. Pausing his game, Jared looked up to see a guy in dark sunglasses and a hoodie stride into the lobby. His hands were shoved into his pockets and the hood was pulled right up around his face, leaving him with hunched shoulders and a 'fuck off' vibe a mile wide.

Jared felt his eyebrows arch. Because that wasn't suspicious. 

The guy didn't even glance at the security desk as he marched past, so Jared cleared his throat unsubtly. 

"I'm going to need to see your ID," he said, when the guy whirled to face him. 

"What?" the guy asked, his voice croaky and hoarse like he'd only just woken up. Given this was the third shift, he very well could have. "Since when?" 

"About two hours ago." Jared extended his hand. "ID?" 

The guy huffed. "Unbelievable." He dug into his pocket for his wallet, then thumbed out a card that he practically shoved in Jared's face. "Will this do?" 

Jared's eyes crossed a little, and he leaned back to get a better look. Apparently, Mr. I Wear My Sunglasses at Night was smoking hot, with piercing eyes, artfully tousled dark hair and a jawline that Jared was profoundly jealous of. It made him wonder why the guy was dressed like an extra from a Wu Tang Clan music video; hiding that much pretty was almost a crime against humanity. 

He glanced at the personal information and found that the guy's fingers were covering half of it; all Jared could read was his last name (Ackles) and part of his street address (ter Drive).

A quick glance at the list of employees that Danneel had given him revealed that there was, indeed, a J. Ackles among them.

Jared looked back up at Ackles, ignoring his disgruntled frown with the ease of long practice as he compared the photo to the man in front of him. He could see some resemblance in the lower half of his face, particularly around the mouth, but it wasn't in his job description to consider that a good enough match. 

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to remove your sunglasses."

The hand holding the card pulled back. "No."

Jared put on his best 'do not fuck with me' face. "It wasn't a request."

"Look," there was a pause, presumably while Ackles checked Jared's uniform for a nonexistent name tag, "whoever you are. I work here and I have a job to do. So stop hassling me before I-"

"Calm down, both of you!"

Surprised, Jared's head swung towards the elevator, where Danneel was just exiting. 

"Sorry," she said when she reached them. "I meant to be up here before you arrived, but I was on a call. This is Jared Padalecki," she told Ackles. "Our new night security. He'll be here on weeknights, same as you, so you'll be seeing a lot of each other."

"You were serious about that?" Ackles demanded. He pointed an accusatory hand at Jared. "You can't possibly think that having _him_ here is a good idea!"

"Hey," Jared protested. "You don't even know me, man."

"Jared's resume is impeccable and I'm not going to listen to you when you're being childish. Sorry," she said to Jared. "This is Jensen Ackles. Host of our overnight show. He tends to be a little cranky before his coffee, I'm afraid."

"I've been up for, like, an hour," Ackles - Jensen - said. "Gimme some slack."

"Wait," Jared said in realization. "You're the host of The Witching Hour."

That made Jensen perk up. "You know my show," he said, almost a question.

"Know it?" Jared grinned broadly, glad to be on firmer footing. "I love it!"

Jensen's mouth did something complicated. "Really?" he settled on, in a suspiciously neutral tone. "I'm kind of surprised. It's not for everyone."

Jared had to give him that one. "Well, fictional radio isn't usually my thing, but there are really only so many ways to entertain yourself when you're a night security guard. Not to mention-" Too late, Jared bit off that sentence. He was pretty sure there was no way to tell someone they had a hot voice without sounding like a total creeper. 

An eyebrow arched over Jensen's sunglasses. "Not to mention what?"

"I… like listening to you," Jared ad-libbed lamely, offering an awkward shrug. "You're a good host."

"Thanks," Jensen said, somewhere between grudging and shy. Maybe he was on radio because he was bad at talking to people.

"Anyway," Danneel interrupted, looking amused. "Jensen's fine. I'm sorry for the confusion. I'll definitely be back up to introduce the morning host when she arrives."

Jared nodded. "I'd appreciate it." He slanted a grin at Jensen, who didn't look especially impressed. "Wouldn't want to deprive your listeners of their beloved hosts just because they look shady."

"Because I've never heard that one before." Jensen glanced at the clock on the wall and his mouth flattened into a line. "And now that I'm officially running late, I have to go."

He turned without bothering to say goodbye, vanishing down the hallway on silent feet.

"Sorry about him," Danneel said, and Jared pulled his attention away from Jensen's departing silhouette to find her smirking, just a little bit. "He might actually have been raised by wolves."

"It's fine," Jared said. He hesitated, then forged ahead. "What's with the sunglasses?"

Danneel looked understanding, but her tone was steel when she answered. "You'll have to ask Jensen. I don't appreciate gossip."

"Hey," Jared said, fighting the impulse to put up his hands in self-defense. "I wasn't looking for gossip. I was just wondering."

"Wondering's understandable, as long as it doesn't go any further. He's sensitive about it. Be respectful."

"Right," Jared said, and didn't argue when Danneel excused herself a moment later, leaving him alone again.

The excitement over for the time being, Jared sat back down and sighed. And now back to his regularly scheduled monotony.

At least he'd be able to tune into Jensen's radio show soon.

The rest of Jared's shift passed without incident: he listened to The Witching Hour, his mind automatically filling in the very attractive visuals every time Jensen spoke, beat his high score on Candy Crush and read through his contract again to make sure he was familiar of the contents. One of the building's usual security team came just after one to cover Jared's dinner break, which was more than a little awkward. Mostly because the guy - Gabe - stared at Jared the entire time.

Jared was used to people in this line of work being kind of socially awkward, but _come on_. He didn't think the guy blinked even once. It reminded him of the way his roommate's cat in college used to stare at people, possibly just to weird them out. He wondered if Gabe was trying to weird him out (it was working).

As the dawn crept closer, Jared signed in the morning crew as they trickled in, including Alona the breakfast radio host, whom Danneel introduced him to as promised. The silence of the graveyard shift melted gradually into a steady hum of activity that Jared assumed was only a precursor to the normal daytime rhythm of the place. 

The clock eventually ticked over to signal the end of his shift and Jared, who wasn't used to leaving his post without handing things over to an incoming guard, felt more than a little weird about abandoning the desk in favour of heading to the locker room to collect his things. He saw a couple of the employees on his way, but most seemed more interested in communing with their coffee than saying hello.

As he was shouldering his bag and patting at his pockets to make sure he had his cell and keys,  
the sound of an argument moving down the hallway in his direction caught his attention. 

"Danny, no!" Jensen was protesting. "You're being ridiculous." 

"Still not listening," Danneel answered back, in a decidedly singsong tone. "You're not going to convince me, so you might as well stop trying." 

"There's no need for this!" 

Curious, Jared ducked his head into the hallway to see what the fuss was about, and found Danneel striding down the hallway towards him, practically dragging Jensen behind her. He appeared to be trying to hold her back, and was having about as much luck as a billy goat holding back a lion.

Then Danneel spotted him.

"Jared!" she exclaimed, in a tone of voice that made him wish he'd kept his head down. "Just the man I wanted to see. You have a car here, right?" 

"Uh, yeah? You registered me for a parking permit with the building when I got here." Jared eyed her. "Is something wrong?"

Danneel beamed like he'd just told her he was getting her a pony for Christmas. "Any chance you could give Jensen a ride home?" 

Jared blinked. That wasn't what he'd been expecting. "Uh, sure? No problem."

"It's really not necessary," Jensen said, in a voice that could have cut glass. 

Danneel, it appeared, was not phased. "Yes, it is. It takes him over an hour to get home on public transit," she told Jared. "It's not safe."

"I can take care of myself," Jensen said, through gritted teeth.

"Dammit, can you ignore your macho side for five seconds and think about this rationally? You _know_ the risk you're taking by going out alone at night-"

"It's hardly even nighttime anymore-"

"And by all the gods, you will let me finish or I will _slap you_." Danneel's voice, which had been rising steadily throughout the conversation, was nearly a bellow by this point. Jared wondered if he ought to stage a tactical retreat back into the locker room. "You have been fighting this thing the entire way out of some misguided idea that you're going to endanger the people around y-"

"Danneel!" Jensen snapped.

Danneel took a deep, steadying breath. "You are not allowed to act like an idiot out of some misguided belief that it's the better option." She jabbed a finger at Jared. "We have a solution. _Use it_."

Spinning on her heel, she strode away down the hall, a figure of towering fury.

"So, um," Jared ventured into the painfully awkward silence that followed her departure. "Where do you live?"

Jensen divulged his address like Jared was torturing him for the information. Jared tried out a smile. "You're on my way home, so it's no problem. Really," he added, when Jensen looked like he was about to protest some more. "I don't mind. And I'm kind of afraid that Danneel's going to kill you if you don't, which would not be good for my reputation as a security guard."

"Sorry about this."

"It's not problem," Jared said automatically. "Uh, is everything… okay? That seemed…"

"Over the top?" Jensen finished. He shrugged fluidly. "Danneel's like that. She's pretty militant about safety."

"Oh," Jared said. "That's… good, I guess? Have you been, like, mugged in the past or something? Cause, I'm not sure over the top entirely covers-" he gestured vaguely "-that."

"Nearly," Jensen said, after a moment. "She gets protective."

"Huh," Jared said, because really, what else could he say? He cast about for a way to change the subject. "So, uh, are you ready to go now?"

Jensen nodded. "Let's get this over with."

Clearly this was going to be a delightful trip.

They were just enough in advance of rush hour that the traffic was tolerable, which Jared could only be grateful for given the sullen atmosphere in his car.

Jensen gave directions in a terse monotone that made it very clear how little he wanted to be in Jared's immediate vicinity. Jared obediently followed the rights and lefts as they angled towards the old part of town, trying and failing to think of something to say that would break the ice. Somehow, he didn't think gushing about Jensen's radio show would have quite the intended effect.

Despite his best intentions, Jared found his eyes darting over to Jensen with increasingly regularity the further they drove.

In his sunglasses and black hood, Jensen was little more than a shadow in the passenger seat. His face was turned towards the window, although - between the sunglasses and the slowly receding night - Jared had no idea how he could see anything of the world beyond.

Jensen sighed heavily. "You might as well ask already."

Jared winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean t-"

"Yes, you did. Everybody does." Jensen turned to face him, the paleness of his skin standing out in stark contrast to his dark clothes. "I have a rather severe case of photophobia." 

Jared had never heard of it. "Fear of… photography?" he guessed.

"Sensitivity to light," Jensen corrected. "These sunglasses are designed to filter out certain ranges of light spectrum and protect my eyes from the worst of the brightness."

Jared cast a dubious look around them. The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, but he wouldn't have called the world 'bright' by any stretch of the imagination. 

"That must be a really severe case," he said finally. "How do you go outside during the day?"

Jensen's answering shrug translated into a rustle of fabric in the dim. "I don't. There's a reason I do an overnight radio show."

"So you can't handle any light? Doesn't that make it hard to work?"

"I keep the lights turned down low in the recording booth, so it's mostly just the hallways that are a problem."

"Yikes," Jared said. "That sucks. I'm sorry."

Jensen made a dismissive noise. "It is what it is. Turn right here."

He said it in a final sort of way that made it clear that the conversation was over. 

It was more than Jared had expected honestly, so he shut his mouth and kept driving, leaving the mystery of Jensen's ubiquitous hood for another day. Or never. Never might actually be a better idea, come to think of it. 

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of what Jared assumed was a house. The trees on the lawn grew so close together that all he could make out in the dimness was the end of the driveway and a glimpse of the roof through the branches.

"This is you?" Jared asked, even though Jensen was already unbuckling his seatbelt.

"It is," Jensen agreed. 

"That's a lot of trees. Isn't raking leaves in the fall a nightmare?"

"I like my privacy."

And even Jared wasn't dumb enough to miss the obvious double meaning in that statement. He nodded and decided to give up for tonight. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Guess so," was all Jensen said, and then he was gone, the car door slamming closed behind him.

Jared watched him go, craning his neck to try and see the front door to make sure that Jensen got inside alright. It was a wasted effort; the trees were too thick to let him see. Shaking his head, he turned the car back on and pulled away from the curb, deliberately thinking about the best route to get home from here.

And definitely not thinking about the mysterious man behind the voice on his radio.

"You going to ask for my ID again?" Jensen asked as he came out of the elevator the next night, sunglasses on and hood pulled up. His hoodie was dark red today.

He didn't seem nearly as surly as he had yesterday, but Jared wasn't exactly keen to test that.

"You're fine," he said, instead of offering a joke like he would have with anyone else. He gestured towards the hallway. "Go ahead."

"Thanks." Jensen started to walk past the desk, then paused, turning back with a mulish expression on his face. "Look," he said, shoulders hunched awkwardly. "I was kind of a jerk yesterday."

Jared shrugged. "Hey no, I get it. I came into your workplace and started making your life difficult. I'd have been unhappy too."

"Still," Jensen persisted. "We're going to be seeing each other every day, and I don't want you to think that I'm always like that. I'm not. I'm just not used to…"

"New people?" Jared suggested, when Jensen trailed off. He offered an understanding smile. "I work the third shift too, I know how it is. Heck, if it wasn't for the fact that my job requires me to interact with people, I'd probably never talk to anyone except the guy at the grocery store and my dogs."

"Right," Jensen said. "Exactly. Radio callers are easier."

Jared grinned, pleased to know that he wasn't going to have to tiptoe around Jensen as much as he'd been expecting. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" he asked, before Jensen could turn away.

"You can ask," Jensen said, with an unexpected smirk. "No guarantee I'll answer."

That was good enough for Jared. "How do you know that your callers will all play along with your whole 'monster radio' shtick? Don't you get drunk assholes calling in and ruining the illusion?"

"Sana vets them before they get put through to me," Jensen said. He shrugged. "Not many people up in the middle of the night listening, anyway."

"Just us poor overnight workers," Jared agreed. He considered. "And probably a lot of college students. Which probably explains why they'll play along, come to think of it."

"I guess." Jensen shifted in place. "I've got to go get set up."

"Right yeah. Have a good night." 

Jensen raised one hand in an awkward sort of wave, which Jared couldn't help but find charming. He vanished down the hall, and Jared found himself wishing that he had a reason to call him back.

This might be a problem.

Day two turned out to be even less interesting than day one had been, as Jared grew rapidly used to the regular faces and the slow pace. He didn't see Jensen again, which he firmly told himself he wasn't disappointed about.

Danneel came looking for him not long after Jared got back from his dinner break.

"Any chance you could drive Jensen home again today?" she asked, once the basic small talk about how he was settling in had been dealt with. "He never wants to wait for my shift to end, and I hate the idea of him going home alone."

"Er," Jared said. "It's not that I _mind_. It's just, um."

"You might want to think carefully about how you finish that sentence."

"He seemed uncomfortable, okay?" Danneel blinked, and Jared hunched his shoulders awkwardly. "I don't want to make him… _more_ uncomfortable."

And now she was smirking at him. Dammit. "Well aren't you a little gentleman? Well," she amended, with an appreciative look at Jared's shoulders. "Not so little, I guess. But don't worry about Jensen. He just takes a while to get used to people."

"I- are you sure that's it? I got the impression that he'd rather take a hammer to the face than ride home with me."

Danneel looked at him for a moment, then shifted out of her slouch against the security desk. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Jared asked, and was absolutely terrified by the smile she threw at him.

"To threaten to castrate Jensen with a rusty spoon if he doesn't start acting like a responsible adult," she said sweetly. "Won't be a minute."

Jared blinked at the empty hallway for several long minutes after she'd gone, suddenly very glad he wasn't Jensen.

The end of Jared's shift found Jensen lurking unsubtly by the elevator, a scowl firmly fixed on his face.

Jared considered and discarded several possible options before settling on a neutral, "I can give you a ride every day, if you want. It's no trouble."

He expected a short nod in response, maybe even a brief thanks if Jensen's olive branch at the beginning of the night had been serious, and was surprised when Jensen almost smiled instead.

"Since I have no more desire to get castrated by Danneel than I usually do, I'm going to say that I do want. Thanks. I promise to be less of a dick about it."

"That's okay," Jared said, daring greatly. "Even when you're being a dick, at least you're nice to look at."

That startled a bark of laughter out of Jensen, quickly stifled but more than enough to make Jared feel like a million bucks.

"You do realize that you've now given me carte blanche to be a dick," Jensen said, grinning. "Also, this is me with no effort whatsoever, so you've set the bar seriously low."

"Like I said, I don't get out much. It's not like I have a huge sample set. Shall we?" he asked, before the ease of the moment could fall into awkwardness.

"Let's," Jensen agreed, still grinning.

Jared decided not to mention the fact that Jensen looked about a million times more attractive when he smiled.

This was definitely going to be a problem.

And so, as with every job, Jared's life settled into a pattern.

He got to know the scant staff that worked the third shift at Muse FM, and spent at least part of every shift shooting the shit with Danneel, who turned out to be no less terrifying than she'd first appeared to be, but also kind of awesome at the same time. He drove Jensen home every day, and it slowly morphed from an exercise in extreme discomfort into something a little more friendly.

He wasn't entirely sure that Jensen liked him so much as tolerated his company, but at least he was entertaining to talk to. He showed up every day in his sunglasses and pulled-up hood, and Jared had tried to ask about it, but either he was actually being _too_ subtle or Jensen was deliberately ignoring his efforts, because he never got an answer. 

On second thought, it was probably the second one. Subtle, Jared was not.

Either way, it wasn't such a bad place to work.

Except for the part where absolutely nothing ever happened.

And it was driving him crazy.

"It doesn't make sense!" Jared raged into the phone, two weeks after he'd started working at Muse FM. "Nothing happens! There's no way they need someone watching that desk!"

"Nothing suspicious going on?" Jim asked, calm in the face of Jared's irritation.

Jared huffed. "Oh, the whole situation is super sketchy, but it doesn't seem to add up to anything. Unless they've got the Hope Diamond locked in the recording studio, I've got no idea why they're wasting money paying my salary."

Jim was silent for a moment. "If they want to pay you to sit there and do nothing because it makes them feel safer, then that's their business."

"But-" Jared started.

"It's none of our business, son," Jim cut in. "Just keep your eyes open and try not to get yourself into trouble on purpose, y'hear?"

Jared slumped. "Yes, Jim." 

"But the job's going okay? No issues with the other security team?"

Jared thought about Gabe and his incessant staring, and Clif's stubborn refusal to give in to Jared's natural charm, and settled on, "Nothing I can't handle."

"Good." Something amused slanted into Jim's voice. "How're things going with that radio host?"

The noise Jared made was embarrassing. "Ngh?! Wha- I don't, there's not, why would even ask that?!"

Jim chuckled. "Glad to hear things are going well. Let us know when you get up the guts to ask him out."

"I hate you so much."

"Of course you do."

"Jared!"

Jared nearly fell out of his chair, he started so hard. 

"Jensen?" he demanded, whirling to see the man dashing down the hallway like there was a zombie hoard behind him. "You're on air right now!"

Jensen waved a hand. "I've got 'Hey, Jude' playing, and it's, like, seven minutes long, it'll be fi-" Jensen stopped, his face doing something complicated as he looked at Jared's laptop.

His laptop which was currently proudly playing the The Beatles.

"You're listening to my show," Jensen said, a little dumbly. 

Jared shrugged, unaccountably nervous. "Yeah, well. I like it. I told you that."

Jensen appeared to shake himself out of his surprise. "Oh. Well. That's-" He coughed. "Anyway. I need you to do me a huge favour."

"What's up?" Jared asked, because it was a better option than, say, _anything you want_.

Jensen put on a piteous expression. "Go down the street and get me a coffee?"

"What?" Jared let out an incredulous half-laugh. "Jensen, I'm at work!"

"Me too! But I'm dying for some caffeine, and your job's not as important as mine, so could you just-"

Jared huffed. "Did becoming a radio personality turn you into a self-entitled dick or have you always been like this?"

"It's a gift." Jensen glanced over at Jared's laptop and cursed. "Shit, that's the final verse, I gotta go." Suiting actions to words, he set off down the hallway calling "I like my coffee black!" over his shoulder as he went.

"You're such an asshole!" Jared shouted after him, grinning despite himself.

"Well, I'll be."

Surprised, Jared turned to look at the man stood by the elevator. "Pat! I, uh, didn't realize you were there."

Which was hardly a surprise, honestly. Pat was the elderly custodian responsible for cleaning the Muse FM offices. He had to be eighty if he was a day, but Jared thought he might have been a ninja in his younger years given his uncanny ability to move around quickly and silently no matter how many heavy cleaning supplies he was carrying with him. He'd also exchanged maybe half a dozen words with Jared in total in the weeks since Jared had arrived, so this was an unprecedented situation in more ways than one.

"It's not often I see that one being so friendly," Pat said in his soft Scottish burr, ignoring Jared's awkward greeting entirely.

"You mean Jensen?" Jared asked, intrigued. "Why not?"

"Never been much for people, he hasn't," Pat said, looking past him to where Jensen had been standing. "Hardly talks to anyone."

Personally, Jared thought that Pat was one to talk, but he kept that thought to himself. "He talks to Danneel all the time."

Pat snorted. "Those two have been friends since they were in diapers." His eyes watched Jared from beneath beetled brows, no less intense for all of his years. "He's taken a shine to you, that's clear."

Jared spread his arms, trying to ignore the flutter of hope in his chest. "He's probably just lonely and looking for a friend."

"Hmph. Never thought I'd see the day that Jensen was interested in making friends. Especially not with a-" Pat cut himself off abruptly, cheeks paling.

"Lowly security guard?" Jared finished, because the poor guy looked like he was about to have a heart attack from nearly insulting Jared to his face. "I can't begin to know why he's breaking habit-" though he certainly knew what he hoped the reason was "-but I can't say I'm sorry for it. Even if he is sending me on coffee runs."

"Hmm. I'd advise you to watch yourself," was all Pat said, before turning to head down the hallway. "Not that you're going to listen."

"Hey, I-" Jared started, but Pat was already gone. He really could move for an old guy. Jared huffed. What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

When he found himself rapping briskly on the door to the recording room an hour later, coffee in hand and a hopefully-not-too-stupid expression on his face, Jared couldn't really bring himself to be surprised by it.

The recording light was off, so it was only a moment before Jensen's voice called "What?" through the door, sounding surly and adorable for it.

Jared hefted the cup, even though Jensen couldn't see it. "The coffee fairies were here. They left you a present."

There was the sound of shuffling, and then the door jerked open, light spilling out around Jensen's body and catching on the lenses of his sunglasses as he reached out with grabby fingers.

"There's no such thing as coffee fairies," he said, before taking a huge gulp of coffee that had to have burned going down. A blissful smile spread across his face, the sight temporarily robbing Jared of the ability to breathe.

"Well," Jared managed after a strangled moment. "I guess you'd know. Maybe it fell from the sky instead."

"As long as it's here, I don't care where it came from." Jensen glanced back into the recording booth. "Gotta go," he said, and promptly shut the door in Jared's face.

Jared tried not to wonder if this was what Pat had been warning him about, as he made his dejected way back to the security desk to take over from Gabe.

Of course, when Jensen was practically purring as he dedicated the next set to 'the bringer of coffee and light of his life', Jared had a harder time remembering that he ought to be wary of warnings, especially with as many secrets as seemed to be floating around this place.

 _Maybe_ , he couldn't help but think, and proceeded to spend the rest of his shift smiling at the thought.

It wouldn't occur to him until much, much later to wonder why the lights in the recording studio had been turned up so high.

For the first time in weeks, Jensen came to find Jared at the security desk at the end of his shift.  
"Hey," he said. "Thanks for the coffee run. I owe you."

Jared shrugged with a poor attempt at nonchalance. "It's no problem. Guess you're lucky I'm around, since coffee fairies don't exist, apparently."

Jensen's smile flashed, warm and open. "Don't be stupid, Jared. I'm always lucky you're around."

That burgeoning hope flared up again, and Jared bit his lip, considering.

"Jared?" Jensen's head cocked to one side. "Everything okay?"

"I'm trying to make a decision," Jared answered honestly. 

"About what?"

What the hell. He only got to live once.

"About telling you that I like you," Jared admitted. "And asking if you want to go to dinner with me sometime."

Jensen didn't answer right away. Jared held his breath.

"Jared," Jensen started finally, and Jared's heart sank at his tone of voice. "I can't."

Jared took a breath. "Can't as in 'don't want to' or can't as in 'can't'?"

"That's-" Jensen started, only to cut himself off again when the elevator dinged and one of the morning crew stepped out, still 90% asleep by the looks of it. "I'm not doing this here," he decided. "Come on."

He strode off like a man on a mission, not looking back to see if Jared was behind him.

Jared cursed himself for a fool when he followed immediately.

"Look," Jensen said, once he'd ensconced them in an empty office. Only the fact that he looked as awkward as Jared felt made it tolerable to stand there. "My life, it's complicated." A gesture at his sunglasses. "These aren't going to magically get better."

"I don't mind," Jared was quick to say.

Jensen's smile was more like a grimace. "Only because you don't know what you'd be getting into. I can manage well enough here, but interacting with people in a professional capacity is not the same as dating. I never take my sunglasses off."

"I find that a little hard to beli-"

"Never," Jensen repeated, in deadly earnest. "The consequences aren't worth it. And I may not get out much, but I doubt anyone wants to have a relationship with someone they can't even look in the eyes."

Jared tried to think of a way to say 'I'm cool with you wearing your sunglasses in bed as long as I still get to have sex with you' without sounding like a douchebag and failed utterly. "I could-"

"Jared." Jensen's voice had gone gentle, which was almost worse. "I'm not my condition, but it does have a profound impact on my life. I'm just not prepared to bring someone else into that equation right now." Jensen offered a helpless little half-shrug. "I hope you understand."

"Yeah," Jared said, because he did, not matter how much it sucked. "No hard feelings."

That earned him a grateful smile. "Thanks."

They stared at each other for an awkward moment, before Jensen coughed unsubtly. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," Jared said, even though sitting in a car with Jensen right now was probably the very last thing he wanted to do. "As long as you don't blame a guy for trying."

Jensen shook his head. "I don't," he said, and Jared had no idea if he could believe him, but he decided to let it drop.

That was that, he supposed.

Except for how it wasn't.

After Jensen turned him down, they went back to sort of normal. Jared continued to listen to Jensen's radio show during his shifts, Jensen continued to catch a ride home with Jared every morning, they both continued turning their work acquaintance into something a little more like friendship, although it never extended anywhere beyond Muse FM and the quiet confines of Jared's car.

But.

Despite Jensen's blatant effort to pretend that Jared had never said anything, it was obvious that it was affecting him. And not in the way it would have had Jensen genuinely not been interested in going out with him.

It started with Jensen standing closer to him, never close enough that their arms brushed, but enough for Jared to be able to feel the heat of Jensen's skin close to his. He was flirting too, deliberately or not Jared couldn't tell, but it wasn't easy to handle either way. 

Jared might have thought that Jensen was teasing him on purpose, except there didn't seem to be anything malicious behind it. It felt more like Jared's confession had given Jensen some kind of fucked up permission to indulge in his desire to get closer, to smile and flirt and make sure that their bourgeoning friendship was damn well never going to be entirely platonic in flavour.

And Jared might have taken that as an invitation to jump the man and kiss him until he gave into what they both wanted, except for the way that Jensen froze up whenever Jared tried to turn the tables on him. He shied away from casual touch, turned down invitations to hang out in their off-time, fled when Jared flirted back too obviously.

It was like he was starved for companionship, even while every inch of his body screamed out that he was terrified of it.

The mixed signals were driving Jared crazy.

The part that was most irritating, in Jared's mind, was the fact that Jensen had decided that they weren't going to work out before even giving it a try. And he was trying not to be an ableist shithead, but he really didn't see what could be so bad about Jensen's eye thingy that it had apparently put him off dating entirely.

Famous last words and all that.

Jared's first glimpse at the reality of the situation that he'd fallen into happened on a Friday, not quite a month since he'd started.

He was lounging at the security desk counting down the days till the weekend started when he was surprised out of his usual mid-shift lassitude by the unexpected ding of the elevator. Jared looked up with a frown; who the hell was that?

The doors opened and two men walked in. One was a little weedy-looking and half-hidden behind the second, who was big enough to make Jared feel small. 

He stood up to try and balance the situation, and both men froze at the sight of him.

"Welcome to Muse FM," Jared said, in his security guard voice. "Can I help you?"

"Wrong floor," the smaller one said, dragging his friend back into the still-open elevator.

"But-" the big one managed, before the doors snapped shut behind them. The elevator dinged as it left.

Jared stood there, eyebrows arched in surprise. 

"That was weird."

He watched on the elevator display as the '4' lit up for a minute before the elevator returned to the lobby. So maybe it had been the wrong floor, after all.

Except that hadn't been the reaction of people who'd come to the wrong floor. Jared sat back down, thinking over the encounter. They'd looked completely stunned to see him, as if he was a ghost or a unicorn or something and not a guy in a uniform.

Although Jared had certainly got all manner of reactions to the uniform before. He'd had to deal with more than a few people totally out of their gourds on drugs in the past, and some people were panicky enough that the presence of Jared's uniform was enough to deter them from whatever small mischief they'd had planned.

All in all, a little more exciting than usual, but still not worth paying him to warm his chair all night.

And Jared would have thought no more of it were it not for Danneel's reaction.

Jensen's habit of waiting in the lobby for Jared had been very short-lived, and Jared had quickly become used to having to range through Muse FM to find him. Most of the time, Jensen could be found in his shoebox-sized office preparing for the next day.

Today, Jared found him in the break room, chatting easily with Danneel.

"There you are!" he said, when Jared stepped through the door. "What kept you?"

"Alien invasion," Jared answered, leaning up against the door jamb. "Just a small one, though. Nothing I couldn't handle."

Jensen glanced at Danneel. "Good job delegating there, boss lady. I don't see you dealing with any alien invasions."

"Please," Danneel said, with a toss of her head. "As if aliens would dare to attack when I'm around."

"I'd agree with that," Jared offered, and earned a smile in response.

Danneel smirked. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

"Gee," Jared drawled. "And here I thought it was because you needed an extra security guard."

"So you can babysit an empty lobby?" Jensen asked. "Not likely." 

"Hey, I defended your honour against two maybe-intruders today," Jared retorted. "So don't be so quick to dismiss me and my mad security guard skills."

"Whatever. The recording studio locks from the inside, so it's not like they could get in anyway."

Jared frowned. "Isn't that kind of a safety hazard?"

Jensen shrugged. "There's a fire axe in there, and DJs have a lot of repressed rage at the world. Besides, there's a master key in the station manager's office, in case of emergencies."

"Oh, okay. Wait, why don't I have a copy?"

"Jared," Jensen said, in a decidedly pitying tone. "Be serious."

"You had some trouble today?" Danneel asked, and something about the careful calmness in her voice caught Jared's attention.

"Not trouble exactly, just a couple of guys who weren't supposed to be here." He slanted a glance at her, trying to decide if she looked unduly concerned about the news.

If she was, she hid it well. "What did they want?" 

Jared shrugged. "Said they had the wrong floor."

"Probably terrified by your ugly mug," Jensen offered, smirking.

"I have been known to scare small children," Jared agreed gravely. "Granted, these guys weren't children, but I am pretty terrifying."

"You're also big enough to be part giant," Danneel said, sounding almost normal as she teased. 

Jared snorted. "Compared to Tiny downstairs at the front door? Not hardly."

"Well, whatever it was that scared them off, I thank you for defending my dubious honour." Jensen levered himself to his feet, one hand tugging absently on his hood to make sure it was on properly. "As a reward, I'll let you drive me home."

"Golly," Jared deadpanned. "What a delight."

"You'd pine without me. Come on." 

Jensen strode out into the hallway without waiting, but Jared hung back.

"Um," he said to Danneel, who was still sat at the table, an unusually distant look in her eyes. "I made a notation about them in the log book, in case you want more detail."

Danneel offered him a smile. "Thanks, Jared." 

"Danneel, is there something wrong?"

She hesitated, indecision and something that Jared couldn't identify warring on her face.

He held his breath.

"Any time before I die of old age would be nice, Jared!" Jensen's voice shouted.

"Oh good, that gives me tons of time!" Jared shot back. He turned back to Danneel, but her expression was back to the amused one she usually wore when he and Jensen were sniping at each other. "Danneel?"

"It's nothing to worry about."

"But-"

She canted her chin towards the door. "You should probably get after Himself before he hotwires your car." Her eyes were intent as she added, "There are reasons I don't like leaving him unsupervised, you know."

"Yeah," Jared said slowly. "I'm starting to see that."

"Have a good weekend," she offered. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah," Jared agreed, and beat a retreat, mind whirling with the implications of what she had and hadn't said.

And if Jared watched the shadows closely as he and Jensen walked to his car, just in case there was someone hiding in them, well, working in security had a way of making people paranoid.

"It's got something to do with Jensen!" he declared triumphantly.

Chad's answering sigh was more longsuffering than Jared thought he really deserved. "Whoop de fucking no one gives a shit. Why are you still talking about your fucking job, anyway?"

"It makes sense. Why do they only need third shift coverage? Because that's when Jensen's working. If the problem was with the radio station, they'd need coverage all day." Jared sighed. "I just wish they'd trust me enough to tell me what's going on."

"Look." Chad leaned across the table with the grave sincerity that only appeared when he was halfway to being drunk off his ass. "I'm glad you're taking this shit seriously. But I don't want to hear another fucking word about this radio guy unless you start banging him or someone tries to kill him. Okay?"

Jared sighed. "Fair enough."

Chad clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man. Now let's get some shots!"

On Monday, Jared came into work on high alert. Or, well, on as high alert as he could manage while still slightly hungover from a Saturday night spend with Chad. The combination of hyper-vigilance and hangover mostly ensured that he was a twitchy, neurotic mess all night.

Which only made it even worse that his shift was every bit as boring as usual.

"What was up with you today?" Jensen asked, as he climbed into Jared's car at the end of the night. "You've been jumpier than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs all night."

"It's nothing," Jared said, feeling wrung out physically and emotionally. He'd noticed some increased diligence from Danneel tonight as well, though she'd ignored his every effort to try and get her to explain what it was that was bothering her so much.

Jensen, unsurprisingly, had been completely normal.

"Ri-ight," Jensen drawled. "Because that was totally convincing."

Jared sighed. "Sorry if I've spent enough time getting the runaround from you guys not to want to go out of my way to encourage more of it." 

"What do you mean?" Jensen asked, perfectly innocuous.

Jared couldn't believe it was an honest reaction. He knew all too well how good Jensen was at using his voice to express anything he wanted to say. "Are we really going to have this conversation?"

Jensen shrugged carelessly. "Since I don't know what conversation you're talking about, I'd say go for it."

"Are you in danger?" Jared asked bluntly, and heard the audible click of Jensen's mouth closing. "Because that's the most logical explanation for all this paranoia. And I'd be a lot more useful as a security guard if I knew what the hell I was supposed to be watching out for."

Silence followed his words. Jared worried at his lower lip as he waited for Jensen to speak.

"It's nothing," Jensen said finally, and Jared felt vaguely like he'd been punched in the chest. 

"Sure," he said, not trying to hide the bitterness. "Keep your secrets, then."

"Jared-" Jensen started.

"It's fine," Jared interrupted. "It's no more than what I expected. We hardly know each other after all. It's not like I've been _hired_ t-"

"I can't talk to you about this."

Jared chanced a glance over. Jensen was watching him instead of the window, for once, but the gloom and those damn sunglasses made it impossible to gauge his expression. "But there _is_ something that you can't tell me," he intuited.

He got a frown in response. "Don't go getting yourself into trouble, Jared."

"By asking questions or by trying to help?"

"Both."

No further conversation seemed to be forthcoming. Biting back his frustration, Jared reached over to turn up the radio to fill the silence. Jensen let him get away with it, and neither of them said another word until Jared pulled up in front of Jensen's house.

Jensen climbed out of the car, pausing with one hand curled around the top of the door. "I'm sorry," he said, quiet and serious. He was gone before Jared could figure out how to respond to that, slipping away behind the trees with his usual careless grace. 

Heaving a heavy sigh, Jared shook his head and put the car back in gear, not sure whether he felt more or less in the dark now than he had half an hour ago.

Only one thing was certain: no matter what Jensen wanted, Jared was definitely going to get himself in trouble before this was all over.

Everything went to hell in a handbasket on Wednesday.

"The problem with tricksters," Jensen was saying, a broad grin clearly audible in his voice. "Is that they hate to get outdone. Do not get into a prank war with a trickster; it's not worth it. And I know what I'm talking about listeners, trust me. My roommate in college was a coyote."

"Sure it was," Jared muttered to himself, between bites of his sandwich. "You'd better hope no one from the ASPCA is listening to this."

Normally, Jared didn't bother listening to Jensen's show on his break; he'd bring a book or fool around on his computer or catch a quick catnap. Radio was for when he was on shift. 

But Jensen had been on sparkling form all night, and Jared hadn't wanted to miss out on the end of the story he'd been telling when Gabe had shown up to cover Jared's break. So here he was, camped out in the break room with his headphones in and his feet propped up on a nearby chair, listening to Jensen spin impossible stories about his misspent youth.

"Now us mere mortals can't be expected to go toe-to-toe with a trickster and hope to accomplish much. Rooming with a coyote will teach you that in about three seconds. it's a whole new ballgame when a tengu moves into the room across the hall."

Jared huffed out a disbelieving little laugh. "'A tengu', he says. Where does he come up with this stuff?" 

He understood a reasonable number of the monster references that Jensen made. Fairies, werewolves, dragons, stuff like that. But every now and then, the stuff Jensen talked about was seriously bizarre. One of these days, he'd have to ask Jensen if he had a reference book he could borrow or something.

The thing that Jared liked about Jensen's stories was that, no matter how fantastical and ridiculous they were, it was impressively hard to tell just how much was made up and how much was actually based in fact. It was enthralling to listen to him weave the truth and the lie together.

Of course, Jared thought that Jensen was enthralling mostly all of the time, but he didn't like to think about how much of a sad bastard he was if he didn't have to.

Jensen was still talking about this tengu-whatever, sounding about three seconds away from bursting out laughing.

"Japanese exchange student. Spoke better English than I do, the overachiever. Well, Chris decides that the best way to welcome him is to sew up all the wing holes in his shirts. And then glue them to the ceiling. Which was apparently a call to arms because this guy put a live ca-" 

Jensen's words cut off sharply, and it took Jared a confused moment to realize that it was because of a loud banging in the background. 

"What the-?" Jensen said.

The pounding grew louder, resolving into a sound that Jared recognized: heavy fists trying to break down a door.

His blood ran cold.

"We'll be right back," Jensen said, hurried but calm, and the last thing Jared heard before the feed cut to commercials was the horrifying crack of wood splintering and a triumphant roar that was more animal than human.

Jared lurched to his feet, nearly strangling himself with his headphones as he raced out the door. He didn't know who it was or how they'd got in, and he didn't care. 

He had to get to Jensen.

The empty hallways flashed by as Jared ran, heart pounding with worry and adrenaline. He skidded round the corner and his breath caught when he saw the door to the recording studio hanging off its hinges, the metal shutters twisted and misshapen.

Not even stopping to consider what might greet him on the other side, Jared hurtled down the hall and through the doorway, one hand gripping the doorjamb to keep him from ending up on the carpet.

"Jens-!"

His voice caught in his throat, his brain stumbling along with his feet as it tried to understand what it was seeing.

Jensen whirled towards the sound of his voice, his hood falling back as his hair reared and whirled with him, brilliantly green and hissing and… Jesus, were those _teeth_?

A hand clapped down over Jared's eyes, blocking his view before Jensen had even finished spinning towards him.

"Fuck," Jensen's voice said, tight and panicked. "Jared?"

"He's fine," Danneel said over Jared's shoulder, her voice hoarse like she'd been yelling. The small part of Jared's brain that wasn't jibbering in confused horror wondered how she'd got here so fast. "I've got him."

"Oh, gods." Jensen let out an explosive gasp. "Fuck, Danny, I thought he'd…"

"He's fine," Danneel repeated calmly, which was about when Jared realized that Jensen hadn't been talking _to_ him, but _about_ him. "I got here in time."

Jensen let out a laugh that sounded more frantic than amused. "What would I do without you?"

"You're welcome. Can you put your glasses back on?"

"I-" Jensen stammered, still sounding like he was freaking the fuck out. "No, fuck, they broke when he hit me, that's why-"

"It's okay," Danneel said, cutting through Jensen's rising hysteria with impressive ease. "There's another pair in your office. Can you wait here while I go get them?"

Jared heard the sound of Jensen drawing in a shuddering breath. "Yeah, just-" There was a shuffling sound, the shush of fabric brushing against fabric, and then Jensen's voice saying, "Okay. It's safe."

"He needs your support right now. Please don't freak out too much until I get back," Danneel murmured in Jared's ear, and then her hand pulled away from his face.

Jared half-turned to ask her what the hell was going on, only to come face to chest with the most grotesque statue he'd ever seen. It was half again as tall as he was, with clawed fingers and massive teeth exposed by a lip-curling snarl. 

He let out a sound that was definitely not a shriek, stumbled backwards a startled step and nearly fell into a second statue that rose up behind him, its arms raised like it was about to strike.

"What the fuck?" he demanded, about ready to start freaking out when his eyes landed on Jensen, half-hidden behind another statue.

Jensen was huddled on the floor with his back against the desk, his knees pulled up to his chest and his face buried in the fabric of his jeans. His hands were pressed tightly to the faint slivers of skin visible on either side of his face, hiding it almost completely. His hood was still down, and his hair…

"Snakes," Jared managed dumbly, and Jensen's body stiffened, though he didn't move.

"Yeah," his voice said, muffled and rough. 

The snakes that covered Jensen's head peered at Jared with their beady eyes, some of them swaying back and forth under his scrutiny like it made them nervous. They were emerald green and patterned with striations of black that seemed to shimmer as they moved, like an oil slick. Jared had no idea what kind of snake they were, which seemed like such a minor thing on the list of Shit He Didn't Know right now that he wasn't even sure why he cared.

Jared couldn't see much of Jensen's scalp because of the way they were writhing around, but they seemed to be growing straight out of his head, pale skin melting into green scales in a way that almost, almost looked natural.

Jesus Christ, Jensen had snakes instead of hair.

And Jared _really_ wanted to ask, but Jensen's whole body was trembling, his huddled posture making him look small and terribly afraid. The words caught in Jared's throat.

Which was about when he noticed the blood, seeping sluggishly between Jensen's fingers where they were pressed to the side of his face.

"Jensen! You're hurt!" He lurched forward, hands outstretched to check the damage.

"Don't touch me!" Jensen shouted, almost a shriek. His entire body shrank away from Jared's reaching fingers, the knotted tangle of his, Jesus, snake-hair, writhing in panic.

Jared stumbled to a startled halt, fingers still pointlessly outstretched. "Jensen..." 

"Okay," Danneel said, stepping through the doorway with a pair of sunglasses in her hand. She glanced at Jared. "You can freak out now if you have to, although I'd appreciate it if you didn't."

"I-" Jared started, then realized that he had absolutely no idea how to continue that sentence. He spread his hands helplessly and remained silent.

Danneel picked her way across the room and sank into a graceful crouch at Jensen's side. "Hand," she said, and waited until Jensen had pulled one shaking hand away from his face and extended it palm out before placing his sunglasses gently into it. She murmured something too low for Jared to hear, then turned back to Jared. "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Just do it," she snapped, in a voice that expected to be obeyed. "Or leave. Those are your options."

Jared shut his eyes.

"Okay," Jensen said a moment later, still shaky but somehow calmer than before. "It's safe to look."

Biting his lip to hold back all the questions that wanted to burst out, Jared did so and found that Danneel was attending to the cut on Jensen's face, working around the sunglasses once again perched on his nose. 

He still had snakes for hair.

Jensen's hands darted to his hood when he caught Jared staring, but they stopped short of actually pulling it up.

"Oh, what's the use?" he sighed, more to himself than anything, then flinched. "Ow!"

"You're going to be fine," Danneel told him, pulling her hands away. "But you're going to have to be careful with that if you don't want it to scar."

"Right," Jensen said, disgusted and choked. "Because _that's_ what I'm worried about right now."

"Stop it." Danneel's voice was whip-sharp but still, somehow, sympathetic. "Things could have gone so much worse than this-"

Jensen choked out a sound that was almost a sob. "What? This isn't bad enough for you?" He raised his hands to gesture at… the room in general, as far as Jared could tell. "Danny, I… I…"

"It wasn't your fault," Danneel soothed. "And for the record, yes, it would have been worse if you hadn't."

"But I didn't want to," Jensen said in a small voice.

Danneel pulled him into a one-armed hug. Jensen collapsed into her like he couldn't manage to keep himself upright on his own, his face twisted with a grief that Jared couldn't hope to understand. "I know," she murmured, face pressed fearlessly into the tangle of Jensen's hair. "I know."

And the last thing Jared wanted to do was interrupt, but he doubted that the flashing light on the computer was a good thing. He had no idea how long it had been since he'd left the break room, but Jensen had definitely been off the air long enough to run out of commercials. "Um, I think Jensen's listeners might all be having panic attacks right now. Can I… help?"

That roused Jensen, who started struggling to his feet, but it was Danneel who answered.

"Yes, actually, you can." She seized Jensen by the wrist before he could go over to the computer and shoved him in Jared's direction. "Take him somewhere and keep him calm. I'll take care of things in here."

"Danny-" Jensen protested weakly.

"You're in no state to be dealing with your job right now, Jensen. You've officially been overruled."

"For what it's worth," Jared offered. "I agree with Danneel."

"That's because I'm right. Please, Jensen," she said, which turned out to be the magic words to make Jensen's resistance crumble. 

"Fine." He turned abruptly towards Jared, his snake-hair flaring and hissing at the sudden movement. Jared jolted back instinctively, and regretted it when Jensen's mouth flattened into short, unhappy line. 

"Jensen, I-"

Jensen pushed past him into the hallway, head ducked and shoulders hunched.

Helplessly, Jared turned to Danneel. "I didn't mean-"

Her eyes were kind. "I know. It's a lot to take in. Just don't forget that this is Jensen, okay? He cares about your opinion. Give him a chance. Off you go now."

Jared nodded dumbly and followed after Jensen, leaving the chaos of the recording booth behind him.

The ticking of the wall clock was painfully loud.

Jensen and Jared were sitting across from each other at the lunch table, as they had been for some time now. Jensen's eyes were on his lap, while Jared's were helplessly caught by Jensen's hair. The snakes seemed to have calmed down from their earlier agitation, and sat mostly quietly as they stared back at Jared.

"Ask," Jensen said suddenly, sounding like he'd been gargling with rocks.

Jared blinked at him. "What?"

"You have questions," Jensen said, and Jared was abruptly reminded of that first car ride together. Had it really only been a month ago? "Ask."

"I don't want to…" Jared groped in vain for a way to explain that didn't sound like an insult. 

"Jared," Jensen said, with a raw undercurrent to words that compelled Jared to listen. "Right now I need something to think about that's not the clusterfuck that's awaiting me as soon as I leave this building. Ask."

And, well, it wasn't like Jared didn't have a million questions. His eyes skipped back up to Jensen's head. "You have snakes for hair," he said, a little helplessly. 

"I do," Jensen agreed. The aforementioned snakes hissed and undulated from their perch on top of Jensen's head, some of them pressing against Jensen's cheeks like they were trying to comfort him. "That's not a question."

"Okay fine. Why you have snakes for hair?"

Jensen faltered at that, licking his lips nervously. "Ah, well, that's because I'm-"

Jared leaned forward. "What?"

Jensen's voice was scarcely above a whisper. "A gorgon." 

Jared was silent for a moment as he digested that. Jensen's shoulders hunched. 

"I... don't know what that is," Jared admitted.

"Like Medusa?" Jensen tried. Jared gave him a blank look in response. "Seriously? Gorgons are monsters from Greek myth with snakes for hair who can turn people to stone with a look. How can you not know this?"

"Okay, in my defense, Greek myth isn't exactly taught in schools these d- what do you mean you can _turn people to stone_?!"

"Oh," Jensen said, in a small voice, and Jared belatedly realized that he'd been yelling. "This is going to be so much worse than I thought."

"What?" Jared asked, modulating his volume with an effort.

There was something heart-wrenching about the defeated slump to Jensen's shoulders. "You don't understand what I've done."

"Okay," Jared said, trying desperately to put his muddled thoughts in order. "I think we need a new approach. I'm assuming that… whatever happened today has something to do with why I was hired?"

Jensen nodded. "The radio station has been receiving threats."

Jared eyed him narrowly. "And by 'radio station' you mean 'you'."

Another nod.

"Why? Does it have something to do with you being a…" What was that word Jensen had used? "A gorgone?"

"Gorgon," Jensen corrected. "And no, ironically enough. If they'd realized what I am, they'd never have dared to attack me head on."

"Then… why?"

Jensen shrugged. "Monster politics. Not really worth getting into."

Which was a bullshit answer if Jared had ever heard one, but something else about Jensen's words demanded his attention first. If there were monster politics, then that meant... "So, you're not, um, unique?"

A faint echo of Jensen's usual smirk flashed across his face. "Oh, I'm plenty unique. But if you mean monsters in general? We've been cohabitating with humans since before your ancestors figured out how to make fire."

Jared's jaw dropped. " _What_? How is that even possible?"

"We have our ways. Misdirection and magic, mostly. Wait, I can show you." Jensen flipped his hood up with a practiced flick of his wrists, and Jared blinked when the fabric settled smoothly over the curve of his skull. There wasn't the slightest hint that Jensen had an entire nest of snakes tucked up under there with him.

"How did you do that?" Jared asked, almost reaching over to touch before he thought better of it.

"There's a protective charm woven into the fabric," Jensen explained, flipping the hood back down and letting the snakes spill out again. Jared didn't dare ask him to hide them again. "It makes people see what they expect to see. Some species, like the fae, can hide themselves, but most of us stick with charmed objects and spells. Like the ones on this building. Until you had the address written down, you'd probably never even seen it."

"That's-" Exactly right, actually. He'd talked to Chad about how weird it was. "If you're about to tell me Harry Potter is real, I'm going to have to go breathe into a bag for a while," Jared warned, with a shaky but honest attempt at humour.

A touch of amusement lifted the corner of Jensen's mouth. "No, he's still imaginary."

"Thank god." A thought occurred. "Holy shit. Your radio show is real. Like, all of it."

"Every word," Jensen agreed.

"So, when you said your best friend is a coyote…?"

Jensen huffed out something that was almost a laugh. "He's only got four legs when he feels like it, if that's what you're confused about. His name's Chris and, for your sake, it's probably better if you never meet." 

"Shit." Jared's hands, he realized, were shaking. He clasped them together in his lap, trying to will them still.

"Okay?" Jensen asked, sounding unexpectedly sympathetic.

Jared managed an awkward facsimile of a smile for him. "S'a lot to take in, is all. Gimme a minute."

Jensen said nothing in response, waiting patiently while Jared puzzled through all the impossible things he'd just been told.

"There's one thing I don't understand," Jared said finally.

"Just one? I'm impressed."

Jared ignored him. "What am _I_ doing here? If you were getting threats, why not get Danneel to have one of her people staff the desk? Or call the police?" He paused, considering. "The monster police? Is there such a thing?"

"There is," Jensen said. "The SPD."

His tone spoke volumes about what he thought of them.

"And they're not helping because…?"

"Because apparently they can't do anything about threats." Jensen huffed and added, "Not until someone follows through on them, anyway."

"So basically, they wouldn't get involved unless you got hurt? Jesus, Jensen!"

Jensen shrugged. "That's police work for you. And as for you..." He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. "Well, the people in charge thought you'd be a better deterrent to anyone looking to cause trouble than one of Danneel's guys would be."

Well, that made no sense. "But, why? I'm just a rent-a-cop. A _human_ rent-a-cop, even!"

"That's exactly why. Look," he said, when Jared continued to look confused. "We monsters have no interest in making mankind aware of our existence. And our laws reflect that. The punishments for letting a human in on the secret, or killing one, are beyond severe. S'why those two last week left as soon as they got a look at you. And probably why they attacked during your break. They must have been staking out the building or something, to know when you wouldn't be at the desk."

Jared felt a pang at that; in all the chaos, he hadn't even thought about- "Gabe," he breathed. "Gabe was filling in for me at the desk. Is he-"

Jensen's expression was grim. "Gabe might be sturdier than a human, but not even a werecat stands much chance against a surprise attack from a half dozen trolls. They're not known for their mercy."

"Werecat?" Jared asked. And then, "Wait, _trolls_? What trolls?"

"You saw them, remember?" Jensen said, in a voice that quavered just a little. "In the recording studio. Nothing else that comes quite that big and ugly."

"But you were the only one in th-" Jared sucked in a harsh breath. "The statues?"

Jensen nodded.

"You mean they, and you-" He stared at Jensen, aghast. "You _turned them to stone_?!"

"Yeah." It was gruffly said, and Jensen's eyes were once again riveted on his lap. His shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller, and Jared was reminded vividly of the way he'd looked in the recording studio, cowering behind the desk.

Jared abruptly felt like a heel. "I'm sorry. That was-"

"The truth," Jensen bit off. "No point mincing words. I k-killed every single one of them."

"But you didn't mean to," Jared said, trying not to wince when it came out sounding more like a question than he had intended. Jensen hunched even further, and Jared wished that there wasn't a table between them right now. He leaned across it, trying to get closer. "Jensen. What happened wasn't your fault."

The sound Jensen made couldn't really be called a laugh. "Of course it was. I let them get too close, didn't move in time to avoid that punch. The first rule is to keep the glasses on and I couldn't even - shit!" Jensen's hand pounded against his thigh with a crack, his face twisted with self-loathing.

"How do they work?" Jared blurted, desperate for anything else to talk about.

"How do what work?" Jensen muttered dully.

"Your sunglasses. I'm, uh, guessing you don't have photophobia after all."

"No," Jensen said. He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Custom dwarfish craftsmanship. The lenses nullify my gaze so I can look at people without, without…."

"Like Cyclops' visor thingy on the _X-Men_?" Jared interrupted. "That keeps him from blasting people with his laser eyes?"

Jensen snorted. "I'm not a hero, Jared."

And Jared suspected that they could have quite the argument about that, but now was not the time. "So you travel around with sunglasses on at night and you don't need to? How do you ever see anything?"

"With difficulty," Jensen said, with a faint touch of his usual dryness. "I mean, my eyes are better at seeing in low lighting than a human's, so it's not that bad, but, yeah. It takes some getting used to. I, ah," Jensen wet his lips. "I usually take them off when I'm sure that there's no chance of anyone seeing me. When I'm at home or-"

"In the recording booth," Jared finished. "Suddenly, those shutters make a lot more sense. Late night radio's a pretty ideal job for you, huh?"

Instead of helping, the question just made Jensen hunch down further. "It was."

This was intolerable. "Is your hair venomous?" Jared demanded, which was unexpected enough to startle Jensen into looking up.

"What? No. Why?"

In answer, Jared stood up and walked around to Jensen's side of the table. Jensen stiffened at his approach, tension limning his body. 

Jared crouched down in front of him and, not trying to be even a little bit subtle, lifted a hand until it was level with the top of Jensen's head.

"Can I-?" he asked, his fingers hovering, not about to cross those last few inches without permission.

Jensen's face did something complicated, and Jared wished that he could see his eyes for a better clue of what that twist of Jensen's mouth actually meant. Except not, because that would end with him turning into a very tall lawn ornament and, holy fuck, Jared was so lucky Danneel had been there to save him from his own foolhardiness earlier.

Jared could hear the sound of his own heartbeat loudly in the stillness. 

"Yeah," Jensen finally said, roughly. "If you want."

Jared, who didn't think he could explain just how much he wanted, nor why, settled for offering Jensen an encouraging smile and lowering his hand.

He couldn't help cringing a little as his fingertips bumped against the first blunt, smooth body. The snake hissed something that was more like a croon than a warning, and Jared cautiously traced the deceptively fragile curve of that round head. The scales were dry and cool to the touch, and Jared could feel the firm muscles underneath. Another snake nudged against his knuckles, demanding attention, and Jared did his best to provide it. He had to smile a little when a small, forked tongue darted out to lick the salt off his skin. He brought his other hand up as well and buried them both in the wending mass. 

Jensen made a small noise, choked and quiet, and Jared managed to look away from where his fingers were twining through green and black-striped scales down to his face. Jensen's lips were parted, looking wet and inviting even in the harsh florescent lighting, and there was a blush riding high on his cheeks.

"S-sorry," Jensen managed, when he caught Jared staring. "It's- I'm not used to anyone touching them."

Jared considered. "Does it hurt?"

Jensen shook his head, not hard enough to dislodge Jared's fingers, but enough that they slid through the mass of leathery bodies in an unintentional caress. Jared watched as Jensen's Adam's apple jumped.

"Jared," Jensen breathed, overwhelmed and wanting and hurting.

And Jared couldn't resist.

He let one hand slide out of Jensen's hair to curve around his cheek and pressed a chaste kiss to Jensen's lips.

He wasn't prepared for the way Jensen's whole body shuddered in response, the way Jensen chased after him when he made to shift back, crushing their mouths together almost desperately.

Jared wasn't a strong enough man to do anything but accept Jensen's wordless request. 

They traded slow, careful kisses to begin with, but Jared wasn't surprised when they quickly grew heated. He pressed in close as his tongue delved into the slick warmth of Jensen's mouth, being careful not to grip the snakes too tightly. Jensen's tongue twined around his, unexpectedly awkward, but no less eager for it, and Jared felt a groan rumbling its way out of his chest.

"Wait, wait," Jensen's hands were at Jared's chest, pushing him away. Jared went obligingly, but left his own hands right where they were.

Jensen's face was a lovely shade of pink that made his freckles stand out in sharp relief, and it was all Jared could do not to dive right back in again for another taste of that gorgeous mouth.

"W-we can't," Jensen panted, chest heaving and mouth swollen. "It's not safe."

"We can be careful," Jared tried, but Jensen shook his head, hands still keeping Jared very literally at arm's length. He was a lot stronger than he looked.

"I'm not willing to risk it," Jensen said. "There's no way to protect you if I make a mistake, or my glasses fall off or, no. I won't be responsible for hurting you."

Reluctantly, Jared nodded. "I understand. I'm not giving up on this, though," he warned, rubbing his thumb across the line of Jensen's cheekbone just to make Jensen's breath hitch. "We'll figure something out."

"Jared," Jensen protested, but it was a weak thing, willing to be convinced. 

"We will," Jared said firmly, and never mind that he had no idea _how_. "I don't care that you're a gorgon. All I care about is that you're Jensen."

"Oh, gods," Jensen groaned. "I should have known you'd be a sap."

"They do say opposites attract," Jared said, with a grin. He leaned back in for another quick, chaste peck. "Next time I ask you out, will you agree?"

"I-" Jensen started, and Jared just knew it was going to be a 'yes'.

"Ahem," a voice said, and Jared had the pleasure of watching Jensen turn scarlet as he whipped his hands away from Jared's chest like he'd been burned.

Jared could feel his own ears burning as he looked over to see Danneel standing in the doorway, her expression so complicated that he couldn't even begin to unravel it. "Uh, hi, Danneel," he said, belatedly letting his own hands drop. The snakes seemed sorry that he was going.

"I _really_ hate to interrupt," Danneel said, which went a long way towards calming Jared's rabbiting pulse. "Because Clíodhna knows that Jensen really needs to get laid." 

"Danny!" 

"But we've got some more pressing issues to deal with first."

"The show?" Jensen asked immediately, still blushing.

"You really should finish off the night," Danneel said, sounding apologetic. "The phones have been ringing off the hook. Even with six arms Sana's having a hard time keeping up."

"Right." Jensen coughed, still pink. "Where, uh…?"

Danneel smiled at him. "You're all set up to start broadcasting from the news studio." 

"Thanks," Jensen said, gratitude clear in his voice. He glanced at Jared, who shifted belatedly to his feet to let Jensen stand up. "Both of you. Thanks." 

"Don't mention it," Danneel said gently. "Now get going. I'll meet you there. You might as well head home," she said to Jared then, surprising him utterly. "I'll be with Jensen for the rest of the night and it's only about an hour before your shift ends, anyway."

"What?" Jared asked, nonplussed. "But what about his ride home?"

"I'll take care of it. He and I need to have a talk about how to proceed from here. Not much point in you hanging around."

"But-" Jared started, before thinking better of it. He wasn't sure of Danneel's reasons for sending him away, but he doubted that arguing was going to help his case.

She shook her head. "I'm not trying to punish you, Jared. I've been telling Jensen to get his head out of his ass for weeks. I think you'll be good for him, if he lets you. But this part doesn't concern humans. You shouldn't be involved."

"Right," Jared said, stung and trying not to show it. It all made sense, after all. He drew himself up stiffly. "Can I say goodbye to Jensen before I go?"

Danneel's smile was gently sympathetic. "If you can catch him in time."

But the light was already on over the door by the time he got there, and Jared felt like a total loser standing outside waiting for God only knew how long. So he leaned up against the door and whispered a quiet, "Bye, Jensen," to the wood before taking his dragging footsteps away.

Muse FM's lobby smelled very strongly of industrial-strength cleaner - Pat's doing, presumably. 

Jared very carefully didn't look at the dark patch of recently-cleaned carpet beside the security desk as he walked through. 

He didn't listen to the radio on the way home.

Needless to say, he didn't sleep well either.

When Jared woke up the next afternoon, it was with the incontrovertible knowledge that monsters were real. And he had a crush on one. 

"Fuck," he said succinctly, and stared at the ceiling for a long time. 

When he finally succeeded in dragging himself out of bed and to the diner down the street, Jared felt like he was stepping onto a new planet. Which wasn't far off, he thought. His entire worldview had been turned on its head.

The thing that Jared couldn't fathom was that no one knew.

According to Jensen, the world was full of monsters and had been for as long as anyone could remember. Could they really be so good at blending in? They must, Jared mused. After all, he had proof now that they existed, but he'd never had any clue before.

What if that little girl was actually a werewolf? Or if the guy in the business suit by the window was a, a demon or something? Or if the cute barista was one of those things that sexed people to death? Suck-something?

Jared realized that he was staring accusingly at everyone else in the diner and that people were starting to get freaked out. He hurriedly redirected his attention to his coffee mug, but he couldn't stop the thoughts. 

How many people in his life hadn't actually been human? 

Shit. Did worrying about this make him a racist? He hoped not. He didn't want to be racist.

Groaning, Jared let his head thunk onto the table, missing his plate by the narrowest of margins.

It didn't help much.

Waiting for Jensen to arrive at Muse FM that night was excruciating.

After an afternoon of his thoughts chasing themselves in circles, Jared was no closer to knowing how he felt about the whole monster situation. He didn't really know what he thought about the whole Jensen is a gorgon thing, either, but the way he couldn't stop smiling like an idiot every time he thought about him suggested that it was a positive thing, whatever it was.

Jared jittered in his seat, wondering if he ought to practice what he was going to say when Jensen arrived. Not that he _knew_ what he was going to say, mind, but maybe if he practiced a few times he'd figure it out. 

Twenty minutes later, he'd only made it as far as 'Jensen' and was about ready to give it up as a bad job. Maybe he'd let Jensen start the conversation. 

The sudden ring of the security phone nearly gave him a heart attack, his flight or fight response kicking in with a vengeance. He took a deep breath, trying to get his heartbeat back under control before answering.

"Muse FM security desk," he said, hoping that he sounded at least vaguely professional. "How can I-" 

"I need you in the lobby," Danneel said, in a voice that brooked no argument. In the background, Jared could hear what sounded like a crowd of distinctly unhappy people. 

And Danneel wasn't technically his boss, but Jared didn't hesitate. "You got it." 

"Take the stairs," was Danneel's advice, and then she hung up. 

He took the stairs two at a time, fairly certain he knew what to expect at the bottom. He didn't know why there would be an angry mob in the lobby, but he definitely knew what one sounded like. 

This day just kept getting better and better.

The murmur of voices was louder now and audible even through the heavy door. Jared paused a moment to make sure that all of the bits of his uniform were in place, squared his shoulders and pushed the door open with his chin held high.

He'd been expecting maybe a half dozen people. Instead, the lobby was packed to bursting with a crowd that was much louder and much angrier than it had sounded over the phone. Danneel was stood behind the desk in Clif's normal spot, looking like she would happily have set the whole lot of them on fire and danced on the ashes given half a chance.

All eyes swung his way when he walked in, and Jared was grateful for the years of job experience that kept him from faltering under the attention. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and lifted his voice.

"What is going on here?" he demanded, in his best 'I am an asshole with authority and you will listen to me' voice.

Shock rippled through the room, the voices falling silent so abruptly that the silence rang in Jared's ears. He could see confusion and wariness warring on the faces of those closest to him, peppered with a surprising amount of fear. 

_We monsters have no interest in making mankind aware of our existence,_ Jensen's voice murmured in his ear. _The punishments for letting a human in on the secret, or killing one, are beyond severe._

Ah. So that was why Danneel wanted his help. Clever.

He'd think about the fact that he was literally the only human in a room full of monsters at a later point.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jared said. "This is private property. There is no loitering allowed. Unless you have an appointment, you are going to have to leave." 

Everyone looked very confused, which had Jared fighting not to grin. 

"You can't stay here, folks," he said again, making shooing motions towards the door. "Move along please." 

Some of them actually started moving. Nice to know that monsters were just as susceptible to basic instructions and a confident delivery as humans were. 

Of course, it couldn't last. 

"Wait," someone protested. "I'm not going anywhere until you get that god-forsaken gorg-" 

"Quiet," a voice ordered, calm but with an edge of steel. The crowd parted like water around two new arrivals in suits, one big and rangy, his companion slight and Asian. 

_Cops_ , Jared's mind said immediately, taking in their confidence and the subtle bulge of side holsters beneath their suit jackets. This must be the SPD.

The short one's eyes glittered as he looked around the room. "No one finish that sentence. Unless you want to be in trouble for a whole lot more than just disturbing the peace, that is."

Someone actually whimpered in terror, every eye in the room transfixed. Some of them didn't even look like they were breathing. The big cop looked much more intimidating to Jared's mind, his every move calculated and confident as he strode along in his partner's wake.

Except…

Jared frowned. There was something... weird about the way he was walking. He gave the guy another careful once-over, but couldn't quite put his finger on what was out of place.

While everyone's attention was caught by the floor show, Jared edged over to the desk. 

Danneel looked over with a smile. "Thanks for the assist," she said in an undertone.

"No problem," Jared whispered back. He tipped his head towards the two cops. "Why's everyone so nervous about the little guy? He doesn't look that scary to me." 

"He's one of the hantu pemburu," Danneel answered. "Not someone you want to tangle with."

"What's a shampoo... whatever you just said?"

"A hantu pemburu," Danneel repeated, as though that was going to help. "Vengeance spirit. Sort of similar to the Wild Hunt."

"The what?" 

Danneel leveled an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "Don't you know anything about mythology?" 

"I've seen _Thor_ ," Jared offered. 

"... right. Might I recommend a trip to the library? He's a hunter," she continued, before Jared could say something snarky in response. "And a ruthless one at that. Particularly known for punishing sinners."

"Makes sense for a police officer," Jared said. "And what about his hulking friend?"

Danneel barely looked. "Oh, him? He's a fawn. Much less dangerous."

"Like a deer?" Jared looked again, and nearly did a very embarrassing double-take when he realized that the guy had hooves instead of feet. Which explained the walk, Jared supposed, but-

"How didn't I notice that sooner?" 

Danneel shrugged. "Your brain didn't know what it was looking at. It needed some outside assistance to see through the charm he's wearing. It's easy when you know how."

Jared frowned. "Jensen's hood still worked even after I found out about his… hair."

A smile flashed in his peripheral vision. "Jensen can afford much better concealment charms than a police detective can. Now shh, they're about done."

Jared looked up and, sure enough, the crowd was trailing out of the building, many of them looking like it was only the stranglehold they on their pride that was keeping them from flat out running. They flinched away from the officers as they passed; the hunter whatsit didn't look in the least bit bothered by their obvious fear.

Eventually, the room cleared, and Jared watched the fawn - seriously, how could someone that ripped be a 'fawn'? It just sounded weird - shut the door firmly behind them, though he stopped short of throwing the bolt across.

"Behave," Danneel said to him in an undertone, as the two officers turned their way. "The last thing we need right now is for you to get in trouble with the SPD."

"Got it."

Of course, that particular resolution lasted for all of 30 seconds, because the first thing out of the little one's mouth was a drawled out, "What's the human doing here?"

Jared stiffened. "I work here."

That earned him a disbelieving eyebrow. "As what?"

"Security." Jared bit out. "Needed someone to pick up the slack since the authorities wouldn't get involved until Jensen nearly got himself killed." 

"Jared!" Danneel snapped. She glanced at the cops. "Osric, I'll thank you to be more respectful of my employees."

Amazingly, the guy, Osric, looked a little abashed at that. "Sorry, Danneel. He's really your employee?"

Danneel nodded. "Meet Jared Padalecki, the night security guard for Muse FM. Jared, this is Detective Osric Chau and Detective Tahmoh Penikett, with the SPD."

"He knows about the SPD?" Tahmoh asked. "You've violated the first law?"

"No, actually," Danneel said, almost cheerfully. "Jared has class five exemption."

Tahmoh's eyes widened. "What?"

"With you?" Osric asked, sounding strangely devastated. 

Danneel shook her head. "Jensen." 

That was apparently the last thing that they'd expected her to say, judging by the way they stared at Jared incredulously. 

Completely at sea, Jared stared back.

"Him?" Osric demanded. "Seriously?"

"Check with the records office if you don't believe me. Everything's in order."

"Danneel," Jared said in an undertone as the two officers discussed. "What's going on?"

"It's under control," she answered.

Jared rolled his eyes. "That's not what I asked."

She smiled at him. "Don't worry about it. They're going to want to question you about yesterday. Answer as honestly as you can. Lying to a hantu pemburu is a bad idea." She bit her lip, thinking. "But don't answer any questions about your relationship with Jensen."

Jared choked on air. "My what?"

She patted him on the arm. "Well done. Finished, gentlemen?" she said to the detectives, who did indeed seem to be done with their hushed conversation. "I don't have all night."

Tahmoh bristled at that, but Osric put a hand on his arm. "Of course," he said calmly. "We're not here to interrupt your work. After you?"

"Just a moment. Can you watch the desk down here?" she asked Jared. "Just in case any more disgruntled listeners come in."

"Sure," Jared said uncertainly. "But… where's Clif?"

Something dangerous flashed in Danneel's eyes. "Clif no longer works here."

"Oookay." Because that wasn't ominous. "I'll, uh, stay here then."

Danneel flashed him a grateful smile. "

To Jared's surprise, it was Tahmoh who followed Danneel into her office while Osric stayed with him. 

"Jared, was it?" he asked, clearly more of a formality than an actual question. "I have a few questions for you about the incident yesterday."

And Jared wanted to protest his PC phrasing, but he wasn't doing anyone any favours by being obstreperous so he refrained. "Of course." He glanced at the security desk and its lone chair. "Let me, uh, find you something to sit on first."

A few minutes later, they were seated at the desk, and Osric started in on his questions. As a security guard, Jared was no stranger to giving police reports, so he did his best to ignore the strangeness of the situation and gave his statement with as little bias as possible. For his part, Osric was focused and professional throughout Jared's report, which he appreciated.

Then, as Danneel had warned, the topic shifted.

"So," Osric said. "What is the nature of your relationship with Jensen Ackles?"

"None of your business," Jared answered, keeping it civil with an effort. "It's got nothing to do with this case."

Osric smiled at him, a surprisingly boyish expression. "Somehow I doubt that. Why else would you have gone immediately to help him without calling for backup? Or the police?"

"I acted within my professional capacity as a security guard. I wasn't confident that the police would arrive in time to help defuse the situation."

"I see. It says here that you were specifically chosen for this position," Osric said, tapping the screen of his tablet for emphasis.

Jared nodded. "They wanted a human guard to act as a deterrent-"

"Yes, yes," Osric said, waving a dismissive hand. "I've heard all that already. I mean they requested you, specifically, out of all the security guards that work for your company."

"They what?" Jared asked, nonplussed. "Why?"

"Amazingly, that's what I'm trying to find out." Osric peered at him, eyes keen. "You didn't know."

Jared shook his head, too confused to try and dissemble.

"So that choice had nothing to do with your relationship with Jensen?"

"I - how could it? What does any of this have to do with those guys who attacked Jensen, anyway?"

Osric looked like he was about to respond to that, but the door to Danneel's office chose that moment to open, and he backed down with a liquid shrug. "It seems as though you're off the hook for now." Osric stood as Tahmoh and Danneel walked out, extending one hand for Jared to shake. "Thank you for your cooperation."

"Uh, sure," Jared managed. Somehow, he had the feeling that Osric had got more out of him than Jared had intended, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what he had said that was so interesting.

"We'll be in touch," Osric said to Danneel, shaking her hand as well. "Thanks for your time."

"I appreciate you coming," Danneel answered, actually sounding like she meant it.

The two detectives said their goodbyes and left, leaving Jared and Danneel alone in the lobby.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Well, that's another thing done. Where does the time go?"

"Yea- wait, where's Jensen?" Jared glanced at the clock and was shocked to realize how late it was. "He should have been here ages ago."

There was a brief silence.

"Jared," Danneel said, in a too-gentle voice that made alarm bells start ringing in Jared's head. "Jensen's been arrested. That's why the police were here."

"What?!" Jared lurched to his feet, feeling like he was being pulled in seven directions at once. 

"Jared! Calm down!" Danneel was at his side in an instant, laying an anchoring hand on his arm. "Jensen's going to be fine!"

"He's been arrested! What part of that is fine?" Jared took a deep breath, fighting for calm. "Why did he get arrested?"

"Jared," she said, still too-soft, like she was talking to a frightened animal. "Jensen killed those people yesterday. And, yes, they attacked him first, but that doesn't change what he did."

Jared felt vaguely like he'd been punched in the chest. "What? Killed? But-"

"He turned them to stone. There's nothing in the world that can reverse the effect of a gorgon's gaze. To all intents and purposes, he killed them."

"Fuck," Jared breathed. Somehow, he hadn't thought about it that way, and it made Jensen's concerns about hurting him seem suddenly a million times more understandable.

"He'll be fine," Danneel promised again. Her hand rubbed soothing circles on Jared's arm, and he was somewhat chagrined to realize that it was actually helping. "We'll get everything sorted out, and he'll be back before you know it."

Jared huffed out a laugh. "Got a crystal ball hidden away somewhere?"

"My clairvoyance only ever reveals bad news, I'm afraid. But I have faith in Jensen."

"Yeah," Jared said, thinking. "Hey, Danneel?" 

"Yes?"

"What kind of-" he started, and then realized that he had no idea how to finish without sounding like a total douchebag.

Luckily for him, Danneel had apparently been expecting the question. "I'm a banshee."

Jared was getting kind of tired of looking like a slack-jawed idiot all the time. "What?"

Danneel's eyebrow arched. "Oh, so you have heard of some mythical creatures? I was beginning to wonder."

"Y-yeah, sorta," Jared managed. "That 'scream like a banshee' thing? And, y'know, Halloween costumes. But they're not usually so…" His eyes flicked from Danneel's pretty face down the length of her body, then skittered awkwardly away. "Um."

Danneel chuckled. "I'm going to take that as a compliment. The myths don't get everything right. Neither does pop culture."

"Okay, so what does a banshee, well, do? You said you tell the future, kind of?"

"We keen for the dead," Danneel said, her tone falling into some strange gap between clinical and achy. "Sometimes before they've actually died. It's why banshees are considered an ill omen: no one wants to hear about the death of a loved one, and never mind that we don't do anything to cause it. We simply mourn the loss."

"Oh," Jared said lamely. 

"Mm. It's how I knew you needed help last night, actually. I'm just glad I got there in time."

"Have I thanked you for that yet?" Jared asked. "Because I think I'm going to owe you for the rest of my life for that."

"I'm just glad you have a life to owe me." Danneel patted his arm and released him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Jared said, and was glad to find that it was mostly the truth. "And Jensen?"

"It'll all be fine," Danneel promised. She grinned suddenly, wickedly amused. "And I promise not to grill you about your intentions until after this is all dealt with, okay?"

"Oh my god," Jared groaned, burying his head in his hands. "I take it back. You saved me for your own sadistic purposes."

Danneel gave a haughty toss of her head. "It's called multitasking. At least you're alive to suffer. And if you're done being a drama queen, I think you're supposed to be working."

"You're a devil woman," Jared told her gravely.

She smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment too. Off you go. Someone will be up to cover your break."

Jared swallowed. "Not Gabe?"

"No," she said quietly. "Not Gabe."

There wasn't much Jared could say to that, so he nodded and headed for the elevator. Muse FM's security desk seemed even more isolated than usual, for all that Jared was used to being alone while he worked. He only managed to get through a few seconds of Jensen's show - a rerun - before he slammed his laptop closed, breathing hard.

A half hour of sitting in silence passed before Jared realized that he hadn't asked what all those people had been so angry about.

Jared slept poorly again that morning and was considerably displeased to be woken up by his cell phone on Friday afternoon a good two hours before his alarm was scheduled to go off.

He was even more displeased to discover it was Danneel telling him not to come into work.

"Why?" he demanded, the early hour turning the word into a growl.

Danneel was unaffected. "You were here to protect Jensen," she reminded him. "He's not here, so there's not much point in you coming in. Besides, the police are back and I trust them about as far as I can throw them. I don't want to get you involved."

"Do I get a say in this?"

"You might do well to remember who's hiring whom in this situation. You're getting paid to stay home, Jared, try not to sound so unhappy about it."

"But- dammit!" he said, when Danneel hung up on him. 

Jared seriously debated going into work anyway before giving it up as a stupid idea. Danneel hadn't steered him wrong before. If she wanted him out of the way today, then he would do so.

And if she was still keeping him out of the loop come Monday, well, then he'd figure out a new plan.

Thus resolved, Jared tried to go back to sleep, but only managed to toss and turn for about half an hour before dragging himself out of bed. Some day off. Maybe he'd make breakfast for once, instead of grabbing it around the corner. 

Except for the part where he'd apparently forgotten to go grocery shopping because there was no food in his apartment. Again.

"Shopping it is," he sighed to himself, grabbing his keys and wallet and stuffing his feet into his battered sneakers. Locking the door behind him, he breezed past the elevator and its 'out of order' sign and headed down the stairs. The schools weren't out yet, so the building was wonderfully quiet as he angled across the main floor and out the front door.

There was a man waiting for him on the steps.

"Mr. Padalecki," he said, looking like something out of _Men in Black_ with his tailored suit and mirrored sunglasses. "My employer wishes to speak with you. Please," he gestured at a black town car parked unsubtly against the curb. "If you'll come with me."

"Uh," Jared said, because what the fuck was his life recently? "My mama always told me not to get into cars with strangers."

The man's expression didn't so much as twitch. "I must insist." 

And Jared might not normally live in an action movie, but he knew how to tell when a person was carrying, and he had no particular desire to get shot on the steps of his own damn apartment building. 

"Yeah," he said, a little faintly. "Okay."

He followed the guy down to the car, muttering a resentful sort of 'thank you' when the guy held open the back door for him.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind him seemed more ominous than it needed to be, but that could just have been Jared. The guy circled round to the driver's seat and climbed in, leather upholstery squeaking with his movements.

"Am I about to get murdered?" Jared asked him, with a bravado he didn't feel.

"I've not been made privy to that information," the guy answered, which was _so_ helpful. "But I doubt it. Mr. Morgan has a reputation for his directness. I hardly think he would send me to fetch you back if he simply wanted you dead."

"Oh, well then," Jared snarked. "Good to know that killing me would be inefficient after all of this."

"Indeed." The car pulled smoothly into traffic, heading God only knew where. 

The silence inside was stifling.

"Any chance we could stop at a McDonald's or something?" Jared asked, after a minute. "I haven't eaten yet."

"I do not intend to keep Mr. Morgan waiting."

Jared slumped back against the car seat. "I can tell this ride's going to be a barrel of laughs."

They drove for the better part of half an hour, Jared's shabby little neighbourhood giving way to one of the swankier parts of town and leaving him even more confused. Who the hell wanted to talk to him in suburbia?

The house he was brought to was fucking massive, easily three times the size of Jared's entire apartment complex. Every inch of the lawn was carefully cultivated, the bright green grass and vibrant flowers standing out starkly against the house's white façade. The driveway was long enough for a jumbo jet to park on it, and there was an honest-to-God fountain in front of the house. 

Jared's nerves were tingling long before he got out of the car, and it took effort to keep his shoulders from hunching as the driver opened the door for him, exposing him to the eyes of the people inside the house. It didn't take Jared's moderately well-developed security guard skills to realize that the house was very well protected by people and technology both. He could see three cameras from where he was standing, and had no doubt that there were many more.

He didn't resist as the guy led him to the front door, which swung open at the hands of two more black-suited employees. One of them had horns curling around his ears.

He was led through the house to a tastefully furnished office that presumably wasn't used for anything except intimidating people, considering how spotless it was. The desk was the main focus of the room: dark mahogany wood polished until it shone and big enough for a threesome. 

The man sitting behind the desk had a salt-and-pepper beard and a careworn face, but his eyes were as sharp as the suit he was wearing.

"Sir," Jared's guide said. "Jared Padalecki, as requested."

The man waved a hand, and the suits vanished between one breath and the next, the door closing quietly behind them and leaving Jared alone with him.

Holy shit, Jared had been kidnapped by the monster mafia.

"Jared," the man said with a smile. "I've heard so much about you." 

"Really?" Jared said, fighting the urge to cross his arms defensively over his chest. "That's weird. Because I have no idea who the hell you are." 

The smile didn't diminish. "Jeff Morgan's the name. I am acquainted with your employers." 

Jared eyed him. "I'm assuming you don't mean Gamble and Kripke." 

Jeff inclined his head. "They said you were bright." 

"They," Jared repeated. "You know, any time you want to start making sense, I'd really appreciate it. My life has become confusing enough recently without this."

A sly smirk. "But maybe a little too bold in the face of the unknown."

Jared huffed. "Can I go? Or are you going to stop being cryptic and start getting to the point?"

That earned him a little chuckle that made shivers skitter down his back. He'd never known a chuckle to do that before, and Jared belatedly wondered if he ought to regret being such a smart ass. 

"I am acquainted with Jensen," Jeff said, with a deliberateness that Jared didn't trust even a little bit. "Been a friend of the family's for a long time."

"Still not seeing what this has to do with me."

"You are, of course, aware of the fact that Jensen is currently in prison, awaiting trial for five counts of murder."

Jared's jaw tightened. "Yes."

"I want your help in doing something about it."

"Really. And why do you want to help?"

"You see, I don't appreciate it when my friends are inconvenienced. And I especially don't appreciate it when they're inconvenienced in order to cause trouble for me."

Jared frowned. "Why would Jensen getting arrested cause trouble for you?"

"Well now." Jeff spread his hands. "That depends rather on the reason why he was arrested."

None of this was making much sense. "He turned those guys to stone. In self defense," he added, putting a heavy emphasis on the words.

Jeff shook his head. "That's not why. Jensen was arrested for falsifying his identification paperwork."

"What?" Jared blinked. "What does that even mean?"

"We're not really all that much different from humans, you know," Jeff said, almost conversationally. He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach with an easy smile. "We have jobs and mortgages-"

"And crime syndicates," Jared said, without thinking. It seemed to be a running theme for him in this conversation.

Jeff's thin smile made another appearance. "Yes, those too. The point I was getting to, if you'll permit me, is that we monsters also have a legal system that involves a lot of paper and files. One of the most significant of which is our identification paperwork."

"Like your citizenship?"

"More like our species. There are certain kinds of monsters that are allowed to live in large urban areas, and some, due to the threat they pose to both monster kind and the continued obliviousness of the human population, are not." Jeff raised an eyebrow at him. "Care to guess what species is right at the top of the 'not allowed in urban centres' list?"

Now Jared saw where this was going. He sighed. "Gorgons."

"Got it in one. But where does that leave poor Jensen? He was never meant for living in an obscure hut in the mountains, you know."

"So you falsified Jensen's paperwork." 

"I helped," Jeff said modestly. "As I'm sure you can imagine, it's not that easy to go through life without any photo ID. He's officially registered as a siren." 

Jared was getting really tired of all these unhelpful explanations. "I assume you don't mean the thing that makes noise on a police car?" 

Jeff shook his head sadly. "Why they've stopped teaching a proper classical education in the schools, I'll never know. "Sirens are particularly known for using their beautiful singing voices to lure ships to sharp pointy rocks and then eating the sailors." 

"And they let Jensen be a radio host? Jared demanded, stunned. "Isn't that a little… foolhardy?"

That earned him a Gallic shrug. "Sirens are only truly dangerous when they're singing. Also, their voices don't compel quite as well over radio waves. Besides, sirens are distantly related to gorgons, so Jensen's certainly a nice enough voice to sell it."

Jared bit back an enthusiastic agreement to that.

"Of course," Jeff said, with a heavy sigh. "Now that the truth is out, well, it's put Jensen in a bit of a difficult situation."

"Not you?" Jared asked. "You're the one who forged his documents."

Jeff smirked. "You'll learn that it's remarkably difficult to arrest me for anything."

"What's that supposed to-"

A discreet knock came at the door. 

"Enter!" Jeff called, and the door opened on a…

"Holy shit," Jared breathed, eyes widening. He'd seen some really weird shit in the last couple of days, but there was no way that he was actually seeing a person who was a horse from the waist down carrying a tray with two steaming mugs on it. She was wearing a suit jacket. Jared wheezed a little.

"Hmm, you really are new to this aren't you?" Jeff asked, and Jared jerked his eyes down to his lap, his ears burning. "Interesting."

"What's so interesting about it?"

"Oh, nothing important. So?" Jeff asked, unbothered by the glare that Jared was throwing his way. The horse lady set the mugs down, then departed as silently as she had arrived. "Are you interested in helping me help Jensen before he gets driven out of town? Please have some coffee, by the way."

Jared huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why should I believe you? You haven't got any-" a newspaper landed on the immaculate surface of Jeff's desk, strangling Jared's voice between one word and the next. "…proof."

"I believe you had a, hmm, situation at the station yesterday," Jeff said, as Jared took in the 'Modern Medusa Kills Five' headline sprawled across the front page. "How much worse do you think it's going to get even if Jensen gets off the murder charge?"

Jared tried to ignore the 'if' in that question. "You say you want my help. With what?"

To his credit, Jeff didn't look triumphant at Jared's capitulation. "I have some… competitors in the city who are trying to take over my business operations."

Jared mentally translated that to 'rival mob trying to muscle in on his territory'. "And?"

"They're the ones responsible for the attack on Jensen." Jeff gestured at the newspaper. "And this rather lurid news report. Initially, I'm sure, they were just looking to injure or kill him-"

"How are you so blasé about that? Shit."

"-but they've changed tacks since their failure." Jeff met his gaze somberly. "It's my business to be unflappable, Mr. Padalecki, regardless of my personal feelings on the matter. Still, I do not take challenges to my authority lying down and, as such, am planning a counterattack."

"Which is…?"

"I want you to retrieve something for me." Jeff opened the top drawer of his desk and took out a photo, which he slid across the table towards Jared. 

Jared looked. It was a fancy-looking vial, like for perfume or something, full of some kind of white powder.

"Is that meth?" Jared had to ask.

"Oh no. Something much more valuable. I want you to steal it for me," Jeff said, as though this actually was an action movie. "You do that, and I'll have the leverage I need to put this whole unfortunate situation behind us. What do you say?"

Jared was silent for a moment, thinking.

"Let me get this straight. You're, apparently, a friend of Jensen's. And also the leader of the monster mafia. And you want me to steal this bottle of whatever to help you get back at the guys who tried to kill Jensen, and you'll help Jensen in return."

Jeff smiled. "In a nutshell."

"I don't buy it."

"Really? Why ever not?"

Jared snorted. "You kidding? You're a mafia lord. For the _monster_ mafia. I'm just some dumb human who happens to work with Jensen. I'm no one special. What could I possibly do that your employees couldn't do? And why trust some important job to me when you don't know if you can trust me? It doesn't make sense."

Jeff's face had only grown more amused the longer Jared talked, and he looked unexpectedly delighted by the end. 

"A well-reasoned argument," he congratulated. Jared had to bite back the urge to tell him to stuff his condescension up his ass. "But if I may offer a counterpoint?"

Jared huffed as long-sufferingly as possible. "What."

"It's the fact that you're 'just' a human that makes you perfect for the job."

And, okay, Jared hadn't been expecting that. "Huh?"

"You've only seen a small sampling of the non-human population of the world. Learning how best to defend against all the myriad talents and skills of the different species is a full-time job for people in my field. But there is one subset of society that we have only the barest defenses against, because they don't even see us."

"So a human who knew how to see through all your charms and stuff would make a perfect spy," Jared intuited.

"Well." Jeff smiled a sharkish grin. "Provided this human knew his or her way around a security system and had the skills to stay alive. And I obviously can't just go around telling humans about monster society. What a disaster that would be! But here you are, with a class five exemption to the secrecy laws and," Jeff shrugged. "Why wouldn't I choose you?"

"Why are you _telling_ me all this?" Jared demanded, because seriously, this was such a terrible idea on Jeff's part.

Instead of answering, Jeff slid something small and rectangular across the desk. "Think about it," he suggested, although Jared didn't think 'suggesting' had much of anything to do with it. 'Demanding politely' maybe. "I really could use your help on this, Jared."

Jared settled for nodding, not entirely sure what would come out of his mouth if tried to respond with words. He reached out to pick up the card that Jeff had left in front of him; it was printed on blood-red paper and boasted nothing except a phone number stamped across the front in white type.

"It goes without saying," Jeff added, and Jared looked up from the card to see something warning in Jeff's expression that was decidedly at odds with his casual tone. "That you should keep this number to yourself. I would hate to have it fall into the wrong hands."

Which Jared figured was mafia code for 'don't go to the police or I'll bury you alive'. Not that he had much faith in the monster police, at this point, but he could appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.

"Wonderful." Jeff clapped his hands together and the door opened immediately on another black-suited henchman. This one wasn't obviously non-human, not that that meant anything. "Escort Mr. Padalecki home. Until we meet again," he said to Jared.

"Yeah," Jared forced out, because it was about the safest response he could give. 

"Oh, and Mr. Padalecki," Jeff said, as Jared reached the door. He turned back to find the man leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him like a Bond villain. How was this Jared's life? "As far as your trustworthiness is concerned, I have complete faith in it."

"Yeah?" Jared asked grudgingly. "And why's that?"

Jeff's eyes glittered with secret amusement. "It's what I do. And do try not to keep me waiting too long for your answer, there's a good man."

Jared resolved that he wasn't going to think about it. Jeff was clearly a few bats short of a belfry if he thought Jared was going to be that easily convinced to do something dangerous and probably illegal for no clear reason.

Honestly, it was a non-issue.

Except for the fact that Jared couldn't stop thinking about it. 

He had no reason to trust Jeff. In fact, he had negative reasons not to trust Jeff, considering how cloak and dagger the whole thing had been. And how did he know that the man would help Jensen if Jared did what he wanted. Or even if he could help Jensen. 

But if he could help, and Jensen really was in trouble…

"God dammit," Jared sighed, staring at the ceiling above his bed. "My brain says one thing, but my gut says something else."

So Jared did what he always did when he had to choose between logic and his instincts.

He went to visit Chad.

"So lemme get this straight," Chad said, after listening mostly-patiently to a heavily edited version of events. "This dude you've got a boner for is an illegal immigrant who works for the mob-"

"Jensen doesn't work for the mob, I don't think. He just… knows the mob boss?" That didn't sound better.

Chad waved a hand. "What the fuck ever. He's got fucking ties to the mob, for reasons all to do with puppies and rainbows and sunshine and shit, I'm sure, and this mob boss wants to hire you as a hitman to help get your butt buddy out of prison."

"I'm not going to be a-"

"Blah, blah, whatever, shut up. Is that basically what's going on?"

"Yes," Jared said, a little sullenly. He wasn't sure if it all sounded more or less believable without the inclusion of the whole monster thing. 

"I dunno, Jay-man. Seems like a whole lot of sticking your neck out just for a piece of tail."

"I'm not thinking about doing it so I get laid," Jared protested.

Chad looked at him like he'd grown another head. "Why the fuck not? You hardly know this guy, so it can't be his sparkling personality that's drawing you in."

"That's-" Jared started, then paused, wondering. Because Chad wasn't far wrong, even if Jared wasn't actually considering this just so for the chance of a booty call. 

Well, mostly not because of that.

"So?" Chad leaned back in his chair, taking a long draw from his beer. "What's so amazing about your radio twink that you're actually thinking of breaking the law to help him, even though you're so square you practically have edges?"

Jared rolled his eyes. "Where do you come up with this shit?"

"Bitch, I'm a genius, don't be hating. Answer the question."

"I-" Jared sighed. "I don't even know. I mean, I liked his radio show long before I met him, but I still practically just met him. Why am I even considering this? It's crazy!"

"But you're still considering it," Chad pointed out, and God, Jared hated when Chad was right.

He groaned. "I don't even know what's wrong with me! I can't stop thinking about him."

Chad shrugged. "Sounds like you've got it bad. Since when do you fall so fast?"

It was a good question. Jared had never been much of a crusher; he tended to need to get to know a person a little before he decided he wanted to go out with them. Which wasn't anything like his experience with Jensen, and he had no idea why.

"So?" Jared asked, not trying to hide how much the question was stretching him thin. "What should I do?"

Chad considered the question for a long moment, taking another long draught from his glass while Jared fidgeted impatiently. 

Finally, he said, "You should try and help this dude. No matter what."

"Really?" Jared asked, surprised. He'd totally expected Chad to say the opposite. Helping the mob was a profoundly stupid idea after all; no one should have agreed with it. Not even Chad. "Why?"

"Because I've never seen you this twisted up about anyone." Chad smirked. "Besides, some recreational law breaking would probably be good for you."

"Chad."

"What? You're a total pansy. You need to start living a little."

Jared shook his head. "I can't believe you think this is a good idea."

Chad snorted. "Are you high? Of course I fucking don't."

That made Jared frown. "Then why…?" 

"I think you're a crazy motherfucker, but we both know that you'll regret it forever if you don't do what your gut's telling you. You gonna let a little thing like common sense get in the way?"

When he put it that way…

"That was surprisingly helpful, Chad. Thank you."

"Besides," Chad added. "You'll never get to fuck this dude if he stays in prison. Least this way, even if you get caught, you can go be gay inmates together."

Really, Jared couldn't understand why talking to Chad actually made him feel better. He probably was a crazy motherfucker, after all. "Thanks."

"Do me a favour and don't get your ass arrested."

Decision sort of made, it still took Jared four tries to actually dial the phone number Jeff had given him.

It rang three times before getting picked up. 

"Yes?" Jeff's cultured voice asked, direct and to the point.

"If I do this," Jared said, trying to sound firm even though he was well aware that the man on the other end of the line was totally aware of just how much bullshit that 'if' was. "What exactly would be involved?"

"Just a little bit of breaking and entering," Jeff assured him, as though that was supposed to make him feel better about the whole thing. "I'll have someone brief you. Wear something dark. You can expect my driver within the hour."

"Hey, I haven't-" The dial tone chimed in his ear. "-agreed yet. Dammit."

Jared knew he was going to agree. The decision had already been made. Probably, he'd already known as soon as Jeff had raised the idea, but he hadn't wanted to admit it.

"Do gorgons give out, like, pheromones or something?" Jared asked his empty kitchen. The kitchen, unsurprisingly, didn't answer. 

Jared spent the next twenty minutes on Wikipedia, trying to find out if that was possible. His research pointed towards 'no' but there was no guarantee that the information he could find - which was based on the idea that gorgons were _imaginary_ \- was actually right. 

It would have explained a lot if they did, honestly.

Hopefully he'd get the chance to ask Jensen. And then punch him in the fact if the answer turned out to be 'yes'.

Once again, Jared found himself in Jeff's house. This time, however, he was ushered into blank-walled room with drop clothes all over the floor.

"Not to worry," Jeff said, when Jared stiffened. "You're just going to need some help seeing through their defenses. Chris here will get you set up." He gestured at a guy with shaggy, overlong hair, a grim expression and a strangely amused twinkle in his eyes. Unlike everyone else, Chris was dressed in a flannel shirt, blue jeans and enough kitchy beaded jewelry to open his own kiosk. 

"Shirt off," Chris commanded, gesturing with what Jared belatedly realized was a paintbrush. "At least you're giving me a lot of room to work with."

"I'll leave you to it," Jeff said, taking his bodyguards with him when he left.

"Stand there and try not to breathe too much," Chris directed, as Jared shucked his shirt.

Jared sucked in a sharp breath at the first wet press of the brush against his chest, but a flick from Chris' free hand reminded him to keep still. He watched as Chris traced a weird, loopy pattern across his skin, his hand never faltering.

"Is this really going to get me in?" he couldn't help asking. "It's just, well, paint."

"Son," Chris said, with a wolfish grin. "Ain't no security system that can keep me out. By the time I'm done, you'll be able to walk into the Pentagon without batting an eye."

And there wasn't much that Jared could say to that, so he settled in and stood silently while Chris covered his skin with intricate patterns.

"It's big of you," Chris said, while he was working on the small of Jared's back. "To want to help Jensen. Don't fucking move!"

"Sorry!" Jared snapped back to his original posture. "You, uh, you know Jensen?"

"Sure, I know Jensen," Chris said, paintbrush arching smoothly over Jared's hip. "Half-raised the ungrateful fucker, didn't I? Tried to make him a little less serious, but it never really took right."

That sounded familiar. "Oh! You're the Chris he roomed with in college! The, uh, coyote."

"That's me," Chris said, sounding pleased. "Jensen mentioned me?"

"He mentioned some of your adventures. Didn't mention that you worked for the mafia, though."

That made Chris huff. "Man, coyotes don't work for anyone. If Jeff wants my help to cause some mayhem, though, that's another story. So? What did Jensen say about me?"

Jared grinned. "That it would be safer for me if we never met."

"Ha! He's probably not wrong. Okay you're done." Chris stepped around him, shaking out his arm as he set down the brush. "Head on out when you're dressed and someone'll get you floor plans and stuff for the warehouse."

Jared swallowed hard at that. "Right, uh, thanks."

"Try not to die," Chris said in parting, breezing out of the room like the wind.

As promised, Jared was next given a breakdown of the building Jeff wanted him to break into, complete with details about the security detail, the location of the bottle of whatever and how to get there. Then he was bundled back into the car, which drove him halfway across town to the dockside before pulling into a narrow side street.

"The warehouse you want is two blocks that way," the driver told him. "You know what it looks like?"

"Y-yeah," Jared said, already well past second thoughts and onto third thoughts.

"Then good luck," the driver said, and more or less booted him out of the car.

Alone on the street, Jared watched the car drive away with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"This was a terrible idea," he decided. "Good to know."

But all the reasons he'd agreed still applied, so he squared his shoulders and headed in the direction he'd been pointed, trying not to stick out.

Such a terrible idea.

Shockingly, the initial stages of Jared's infiltration went without a hitch.

The warehouse had two guards walking the perimeter, along with a security camera over every door. Jared waited until the first guard had passed, then sprinted across the street to the door that Jeff's men had suggested. The space between his shoulders was itching like crazy as he reached for the handle, sure that he was about to get shot any second, but whatever Chris had done must have worked because there wasn't so much as a peep as he slipped inside.

Once inside, Jared paused to let his eyes adjust to the dimness, then crept carefully forward, trying to stay close to the wall. He tried not to look too hard at the number of guards, workers and random mafia people scattered around the room lest it cause him to lose his nerve all together.

Moving slowly and carefully, Jared managed to make his way to the metal staircase leading up to the second floor. He ducked into an alcove between stacked crates as someone walked by, looking up at the stairs with dismay.

How the hell was he going to get up there? Even Chris' 'notice me not' graffiti wasn't going to be able to hide him from an entire warehouse full of people, would it?

A hand seized the back of his collar and yanked; Jared stumbled back with a startled shout that was muffled by another hand that clamped down over his mouth before he could voice it. 

 _Oh God_ , Jared thought. _Oh God, oh God, oh G-_

"Stop it!" a familiar voice hissed, when Jared threw an elbow back to free himself. "It's me!" 

"Jnshn?" Jared garbled out. He wiggled free and whirled around to see Jensen scowling at him from behind his sunglasses. "Oh my God, Jensen!" 

He dragged the guy into a full-body hug without thinking, and immediately felt guilty when Jensen stiffened in his arms. 

"Shit, sorry." Jared went to detangle them, and squeaked in shock when Jensen's arms wrapped around him for a quick, firm squeeze before letting him go.

"Good to see you too." Jensen's nose wrinkled. "Ugh, you _reek_ of magic." He shoved at Jared's sleeve, making an unsurprised noise when he saw the marks painted on his bared arm. "The hell have you gotten yourself into, you lunatic?"

"What have I-? I'm trying to help you!" He jabbed a finger at Jensen. "Why are you even here? You're supposed to be in prison!"

It was hard to tell with the sunglasses on, but he suspected that Jensen was rolling his eyes at him. "It's called bail, Jared. Every heard of it?"

Jared was having a surprisingly difficult time adjusting to having this sarcastic Jensen in the middle of his illegal mafia heist.

"And speaking of prison, we need to get you out of here before you end up arrested for breaking and entering. Come on."

"I can't." Jared dug in his heels when Jensen went to tug him away. "Not until I get what I came here for."

"You-" Jensen looked profoundly exasperated. "We haven't got time to argue about this. If someone catches us-"

"Then you'd better leave without me or start helping."

Jensen muttered some curse words under his breath, not all of them English. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine. What are we here for?"

"Er," Jared hunched a sheepish shoulder. "I'm not sure _what_ it is, exactly, but Jeff said-"

"Jeff?" Jensen said, a little louder than was probably appropriate. Jared flailed his arms at him, and Jensen obligingly dropped back into a - decidedly irate - whisper. "Jeff Morgan? Did he con you into something? I'll kick his ass."

"Okay, but later, alright? I need to get to the offices and… stuff on the second floor. The thing Jeff wants is in a safe. Oh, I have a picture." Jared fumbled out the photo and passed it over.

Jensen took it and stared at it for several long moments. "I don't know what deal you've made," he said finally, "But I hope it's worth this."

"It is," Jared said firmly.

"Fine. We're fucked either way, so we might as well get this while we're here so I can shove it up Jeff's ass in return for all this bullshit."

Both of Jared's eyebrows arched. He was aware he was staring, but he didn't care.

Jensen, apparently, did. "What?" he demanded grumpily.

"I've never heard you swear so much."

"Yeah, well, usually I don't have to sneak into a heavily defended mafia base to rescue a suicidally gullible human."

"Hey!" Jared protested. "I didn't ask you to rescue me!"

"Lucky for you, I'm doing it anyway. Come on already. The sooner we're out of here, the better."

"Okay." Jared glanced again at the stairs. "Um, how?"

"Oh, for- see those guys over there?" A gesture at four guys walking in generally their direction, "They’re the only ones with a good enough line of sight to watch the stairs. We're going to take them out and go upstairs before anyone else arrives to take their place. The machinery they've got running should be loud enough to drown out most of the noise."

"Um, you're not going to-" Jared made a gesture that was meant to convey 'turn anybody into stone by glaring at them', though he thought some of the nuance might have been lost in translation.

Jensen glared at him. "Considering that if I did I'd be committing _murder_ , no, Jared, I wasn't planning on it."

"Oh. Good. So, um, how are we going to take out those guys?"

"Jared," Jensen said, through gritted teeth. "Since the moment of my birth, I have been able to kill people just by looking at them. If you don't think my parents made very sure that I would have the skills to prevent people from taking off my sunglasses by force, you are utterly insane."

That made sense. 

"So we're going to punch them all until they stop bothering us. Good plan."

He could sense Jensen eying him. "Please tell me that you at least know how to defend yourself. You know, considering that you snuck into a mob-run warehouse without a plan or a weapon."

"I have a weapon! Taser, see? And I'm no secret ninja master, but I can defend myself. We got some basic training with the job, and I was on the boxing team in college."

"Good. Try not to die." Jensen started forward, moving with the stealthy grace of a predator.

And Jared wouldn't admit it, but it was kind of nice to have someone else in charge. Jensen was clearly much better at mafia heists than he was.

Jensen crept forward through the stacks until they were nearly on top of the guards, then exploded into motion, one arm sweeping up to catch a guy right under the chin even as he drove his opposite elbow into someone's gut. Jared tackled a third guy who tried to attack Jensen from behind, relying on his greater body mass and mostly-there memories of the boxing team to help him knock the guy out as quickly as possible.

Once his opponent was out for the count, Jared spun to help Jensen, only to discover the other three already groaning on the floor and Jensen brushing dust off his sweater like a total badass. 

"Holy shit," he gaped. "You actually are a secret ninja master."

"Told you," Jensen said, somehow managing to sound smug and awkward about it at the same time. He grabbed the closest body and started dragging. "Help me get these guys out of sight before someone notices."

Someone had handed Jared a bunch of zip ties at Jeff manor, so it was the work of a matter of minutes to get all four guards trussed up and tucked out of sight with their own socks shoved in their mouths to keep them quiet. Then it was a matter of checking that the coast was clear and sneaking back to the stairs. Jared's shoulder blades started itching again, but they managed to make it to the top without trouble.

"Which way?" Jensen whispered, and Jared took the lead, hoping like hell that he was remembering the directions correctly.

They ran into a couple more mafia thugs on the way, all of which were dispatched with a combination of Jared's Taser and Jensen's ninja skills.

"I feel like I'm playing _Metal Gear Solid_ ," Jared confided to Jensen after one such encounter.

"That's nice," Jensen said. He wasn't even breathing hard, the bastard. Mostly, Jared was impressed that his hood hadn't fallen off yet. "Are we there yet?"

Eventually, they found the right office. It was, unsurprisingly, locked.

"Is this where you tell me that a misspent youth taught you how to pick locks?" Jensen asked, without much hope. He eyed the door. "I might be able to kick it in, but it's going to make a hell of a lot of noise."

Jared shook his head. "I've got it. I think." He reached out with his left hand, pressing the symbol painted on his palm against the lock, just like Chris had told him to. He didn't hear a click, but the door swung open when he tried it, which was fine with him. 

He could feel the weight of Jensen's stare boring into the back of his head. "You got those spells from Chris," he said, not a question. "He made that unlocking talisman himself."

"I did," he agreed. "Do you see a safe anywhere?"

Between the two of them, it wasn't long before they unearthed the safe, wedged in between the desk and a filing cabinet. It was an imposing-looking thing, and likely cost a small fortune.

Not that it stood up against Chris' spell any better than the door had.

"That is a terrifying spell," Jared said, as he pulled the door open. "Chris could get into anything with it."

"Trust me, he already has," Jensen said dryly. "You got the vial yet?"

"I'm looking, okay, gimme a- aha!" Jared lifted the vial aloft with a triumphant grin. "Got it!"

"Amazing. Spectacular. Now let's get out of here."

Unfortunately, their escape was not nearly so successful.

"Can't you run any faster?" Jensen yelled at him, as they pelted headlong down the hallway with a handful of mafia thugs on their heels.

Jared wasn't sure whether they'd tripped some kind of silent alarm or one of the tied-up bodies had been discovered, but the whole building was definitely aware they were here now.

"I'd go faster if you weren't in my way!" Jared shouted back, swearing when a bullet buried itself in the wall just above his head. "Where are those damn stairs?"

"Nearly there!" Jensen careered around a corner, taking out the guy waiting for them with a vicious kick to the balls without even slowing.

If Jared hadn't been in love before, he definitely was now.

Something moved in his peripheral vision. "Duck!" he yelled, and they both hit the deck just in time to avoid getting a two-by-four to the head. Jared lashed out with his Taser, not even able to feel a grim satisfaction at his success thanks to all the panicked adrenaline running through his system.

Jensen grabbed him under the armpit, yanking him to his feet. "Move your ass, Jared!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" And they were off again.

This was definitely the last time Jared did anything for a mafia boss.

Jared could have wept for joy when the top of the staircase appeared in front of them. They pounded down the hall and practically threw themselves down the stairs. Jared could see another group of thugs streaking across the main floor, trying to get to the bottom before they did.

"We're not gonna make it!" he warned, fighting not to misstep on the rickety steps.

"We will if you shut up and run faster!"

Something hit Jared in the back, hard enough to make him stagger. "Ow," he said, almost absently. 

Then his legs buckled.

"Jared!" someone shouted, but Jared was a bit too busy falling over to answer. 

He hit the stairs with a jarring thud, his side burning like fire as he tumbled into a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. Clumsily, Jared pressed a hand to the pain and was confused when his fingers came back stained red. 

Someone was moaning like they were dying. 

"Jared!" the voice said again. Jensen, that was Jensen, but Jared didn't know quite where he was.

He tried to reach out, but the world was going fuzzy and he couldn't quite figure out which way was up. Why was he on the floor?

"Shit," Jensen said, and then someone grabbed Jared's hand and pressed it over his eyes. "Don't look, Jared."

And Jared didn't know what was going on, but moving his hand was more work than leaving it, so he obeyed. Distantly, he could hear people screaming and a strange noise that didn't sound like anything he'd ever heard before. The warmth of Jensen's leg moved away from his side, and Jared moaned, cut adrift in the pain and the blackness until, eventually, that vanished as well.

There was someone rifling through his clothes.

"Dammit!" a voice hissed, frantic and afraid. "Where is it? Don't you dare tell me you dropped it!" 

Jared whimpered, trying to get away from that rough touch.

"Shh, it's fine, it'll be fine. Oh, thank God." 

The hands finally stopped, but Jared moaned in protest when they rolled him flat onto his front instead and the world lit up with pain and fire.

"Sorry for this." 

The hands shoved at his shirt, and Jared yelled when it pulled wetly on the ball of agony in his back.

"Apollo, guide my hand," the voice murmured, and Jared hissed when something cold landed on his skin. 

Jensen's fingers were there the next moment, spreading the burning cold across his skin. Jared whimpered, trying to curl away from the touch.

"Shh," the voice soothed. "It'll help. Trust me. Can you do that?"

And Jared had no reason to do that, but he couldn't deny that voice anything.

"That's it. How do you feel?"

 _Like I'm dying_ , Jared was going to say, except, no, he didn't.

Startled, he jerked up, moaning at the sudden sharp jab of pain through his veins. Jensen's hands were there immediately, pressing him down to the ground and keeping him still.

"Careful," Jensen said, looming over him like an angel in sunglasses and a hoodie. "Give it time to finish."

"Give what time?" Jared's hands, tacky with drying blood, shifted to his back, and he made a choked sound when he realized that the wound was gone. His eyes flew open as he twisted to look; all he saw was bloody clothes and pink, tender skin. There wasn't even a mark to betray the fact that he'd just been shot.

Jensen watched him take this in, his face inscrutable.

"What did you do?" Jared breathed, and blinked when Jensen dangled the vial in front of his face. 

It wasn't, Jared couldn't help but notice, nearly as full as it had been before.

"Powdered unicorn horn," Jensen told him. "Has the ability to heal any wound. Lucky for you. Now come on. I'm pretty sure I got everyone in the immediate area, but we need to not be here when the reinforcements show up." After shrugging his hoodie on and flipping up the hood, Jensen climbed to his feet and offered Jared a hand. "Up you go!"

"Nngh!" Jared gasped, when the change in orientation made his nerves sing with pain. 

"It'll get better," Jensen promised, looping Jared's arm over his shoulders. "Come on. Watch your step."

"Huh?" Jared looked around them as Jensen started hauling him towards the door, and immediately blanched.

"Jensen," he said, voice strained, and felt Jensen's muscles tense under his arm.

"Plans change," he said tightly, eyes focused on the ground in front of them rather than the horror frozen on the faces of the stone figures ringing them. "Next time, do a better job of not getting yourself killed."

"Understood," Jared managed. He took a deep breath. "Jensen, I'm so sor-"

"Don't," Jensen cut in. He took a deep, shuddery breath. "It's fine. Just don't do it again. I don't feel much like watching you die."

"Right," Jared mumbled, and let Jensen stagger them both towards the exit. The jangling ache in his gut slowly eased, and by the time they emerged out onto the street, Jared didn't really need the support of Jensen's shoulder to keep him moving.

He stayed right where he was though. He wasn't stupid. Jensen's body was warm and solid against his, and Jared was determined to enjoy it for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, Jensen didn't appear to share that impulse.

"Can you stand?" Jensen asked, stepping away when Jared nodded. He reached into his pocket for his phone. "You have Jeff's card, right?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Wait." Jared fumbled through his pockets before he retrieved the slightly battered card. At least his bloody fingerprints didn't show up much.

Jensen accepted the card and dialed. "Jeff," he said a moment later. "Oh, don't bother. We both know you're not surprised. We need a cleanup. Yeah. Yeah. Wasn't planning on it. Whatever. Fine."

He hung up with a violent jab of his thumb that made Jared think that he wished he had a receiver to slam the phone into. "Let's go," he said shortly.

Jared didn't bother asking where, since all of Jensen's requirements seemed to be 'not here' and, well, he couldn't really say he objected. Jensen started hauling him down the street and Jared staggered along next to him, glad for his longer legs as he struggled to keep up with Jensen's rapid pace. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, forcing Jared to squint against the glare.

"Did we just become mafia hitmen?" Jared ventured after a moment. "Because if we did I owe Chad an apology."

Abruptly, Jensen laughed. It wasn't a particularly mirthful sound. "I guess we did," he agreed. "Who the fuck is Chad?"

So Jared explained Chad, which pretty much the entire trip out of the dock zone because Chad was indescribable at the best of times. As they reached the edges of the city proper, a homeless guy who was clearly tweaked out on something stared at them with comically wide eyes. 

Which was about the time that Jared realized he was absolutely covered in blood. 

"We need to get off the street," Jensen said aloud, so in line with Jared's train of thought that it made his head hurt. 

Jared glanced around, getting his bearings. "My apartment's only a few stops away on the red line."

Jensen's mouth pressed into a thin line. "That doesn't sound like a good idea."

"Which part? The subway or my apartment?"

Jensen huffed at him. "Both."

"The subway's full of crazy people at the best of times. And if the SPD go looking for anyone, they're not likely to check _my_ place, right? I mean, I'm just a human."

Jensen sighed. "Fine. You couldn't have brought your car?"

Jared shrugged. "I got a ride from Jeff's henchpeople."

"Of course you did. I hope you've got enough money for both of us. Funnily enough, I didn't bring my wallet to infiltrate a mafia warehouse."

Jared did, in fact, have enough money for both of them, and spent most of the trip back trying to stifle inappropriate laughter every time someone made a horrified double-take at his blood-splattered appearance.

"You're a terrible human being," Jensen informed him, sotto voce, and Jared nearly lost it entirely. 

"That's okay," he said, giving Jensen a friendly nudge. "I hear being human's really passé these days, anyway."

Jensen heaved a big sigh and very deliberately turned his face away from Jared's. Jared went back to fighting the giggles.

It was nearing six by the time they reached Jared's apartment, and he was starting to feel the drain of fighting his way through a mafia warehouse and then nearly bleeding to death.

"Mi casa es su casa," he said to Jensen as he let them in. "Can I get you anything?"

"Coffee," Jensen said immediately, which sounded like an excellent idea.

Jared set the coffee maker, then went to change into something that wasn't covered in blood. He longed to have a shower and wash off all the blood and ink on his skin, but he suspected it was going to take forever and he didn't want to leave Jensen unattended that long. He'd have to live with it for a while longer.

"Thanks," Jensen said, when Jared handed him a mug. He then preceded to stare into it rather than drinking it, which was a concerning sign.

Jared sat beside him on the couch, leaving a full cushion of space between them, just in case. "You okay?"

"I think," Jensen said, with a worrying amount of precision. "That you should tell me what that was all about now."

"Oh, right. Well, uh, Jeff said-"

Jensen sighed. "I was worried it would be something like that. What, exactly, did he say?"

"He, uh, he said that you weren't under arrest for ki- turning those guys to stone, but for lying about being a gorgon on your citizenship papers."

"Lying about-?" Jensen shook his head. "Why would I do that?"

Jared hunched his shoulders. "Because gorgons aren't allowed to live in cities because they're too dangerous?"

Jensen stared at him, thoroughly nonplussed. "A hundred years ago, maybe, but not these days. Do you think we're all living in the stone ages or something?"

"Well I don't know, do I?" Jared snapped, with a touch of asperity. "I've only known that monsters are real for, like, two days. And anyway, you do have a fake ID! I've seen it, remember?"

"For idiot humans!"

"Well, what about the mob?" Jared demanded, which gave Jensen pause.

"What mob?"

"The one that descended on the radio station yesterday. Jeff said-"

Jensen groaned. "Please don't start any more sentences with 'Jeff said'. That's never a good reason to do anything."

"Couldn't have told me that earlier." Jared crossed his arms over his chest, feeling petulant and not giving a damn. "I was trying to help."

That earned him a sigh. "I know. He can be very convincing. And at least now we understand what this whole mess was in aid of."

They did? "We do?"

"How do you think I knew where you were, Jared?"

Jared was embarrassed that that question hadn't even occurred to him. "Um, Jeff told you?" he guessed.

"Jensen nodded grimly. "Jeff has been trying for a while to get me involved in his affairs, but I'm not interested. So he deliberately put you in danger so that I'd be forced to help."

"But why? He can't think that this taste of the criminal underworld is going to make you become a mobster, so what difference does it make who dealt with that?"

Jensen was quiet for a moment. "I don't know for sure," he said slowly. "But I don't think he could get involved in this directly without causing all sorts of other problems." Jensen's lips quirked. "Much as he'd like to pretend, Jeff's not untouchable. This was a much bigger deal than just me getting attacked. He had limited options for how to deal with it."

"So he got an uninvolved third party to deal with it." 

"Mm," Jensen agreed. "It's also a terror tactic. There were, what, fifty guys in that warehouse? Two people devastated the lot of them _and_ stole something very valuable from a very good safe. Not to mention that Jeff'll make sure that the ones I…" Jensen coughed, his mouth turning down at the corners. "They'll probably never be found. That's the kind of thing that creates an impression."

Jared looked up from contemplating his coffee, trying to interpret Jensen's expression. "It really bothers you, doesn't it? What you can do?"

Jensen's answering laugh was deeply bitter. "How could it not? I'm a murderer, Jared."

"That's not your fault-"

"Do you know the first thing I killed with my gaze?" Jensen demanded.

Jared couldn't answer, and Jensen didn't wait for him to try.

"My puppy. I was six. I didn't mean to, but that didn't make it better. I cried for weeks. That's when I learned that all of my parents' warnings about how dangerous I was were only scratching the surface."

"You told me once that you're more than your condition," Jared offered. "And that's what matters."

Jensen snorted. "It does when it's an accident. I've always told myself that I'm not the same. There are all sorts of deadly monsters out there, but they can choose whether or not to use their claws; for me, it's always an accident. Except this time it wasn't."

"Jensen…"

"I chose your life over all those men and women," Jensen said. "I murdered them all and I'd fucking do it again and that, that…" His voice cracked on a sob. "That terrifies me."

To hell with keeping his distance. Jared put his arm around Jensen's shoulders and tugged gently. To his surprise, Jensen sighed and melted into the embrace, head lolling to rest on Jared's chest. 

"How do I live with that?" Jensen demanded, fingers clutching bruise-tight on Jared's arms.

"I don't know," Jared admitted. "But I think the fact that it's so hard is a good thing. And I'll help you try and figure it out, if you'll let me."

Jensen made a noncommittal sound. 

They sat in silence for long enough that Jared thought that the other man had fallen asleep. 

"He's got a seer on the books, you know," Jensen said suddenly, not quite casually enough to sound anything other than tense. "That's someone who can tell the future, by the way," he added, before Jared could ask.

Jared thought about it. "You think he knew this would happen?"

Jensen shrugged. "'M just saying. He could have told you to take anything out of that warehouse; it was the act, not the object, that mattered. And he had us steal the one thing that can heal any wound? It's awfully convenient."

"Well, I'm glad he doesn't want me dead," Jared said.

"I wonder," Jensen said, sounding thoughtful. 

"Jensen?"

"Nothing. You should be the one to give him the vial."

"Why? He must know that I never would have got it without you."

"He's going to be impossibly smug about me getting involved and I don't think I can deal with that without punching him in his stupid face." Jensen made a face. "And the last time I did that his henchmen locked me in the cellar for a week. Not something I'm really interested in doing again."

"What kind of relationship do you _have_ with this guy?" Jared couldn't help but ask. 

"That," Jensen said tiredly, "is a very long story. And one I'm not getting into now. The short version is that he's been like a benevolent uncle to me, while also not being overly worried about getting me killed in his various machinations over the years."

"Yikes. Okay, it's official: I am never working for the mafia again."

He felt Jensen smile against his chest. "You do realize that Jeff is the General Manager of Muse FM, right?"

Jared was somewhat relieved to find that he was too tired to be properly shocked about that. "Please tell me you're lying."

"Fraid not. He owns the whole building, actually. So you've been working for the mafia ever since you got here." Jensen shrugged. "Technically."

"Well shit. Now I know it's a conspiracy. I just wish I knew to what end."

Fabric shifted as Jensen shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

They fell silent again until Jensen did actually fall asleep, lax and trusting in Jared's arms.

Jared sat there for a long time, absorbing everything that had happened and enjoying the closeness. Jensen's sunglasses were digging uncomfortably into Jared's collar, but he thought he enjoy getting used to it, all the same.

He just wasn't sure he was going to be given the chance to.

Things were unavoidably awkward when they woke up several hours later, necks stiff from sleeping on the couch and the weave of Jared's shirt imprinted on Jensen's cheek.

Jensen wasted no time in beating a hasty retreat, pausing only to throw the vial of unicorn horn at Jared before leaving.

For his part, Jared banged his head against the table a couple of times before sighing and going to take a long-overdue shower.

After a small eternity spend scrubbing the damned ink off his skin - which he was 100% certain was Chris' idea of a joke - Jared decided that he probably ought to give the vial to Jeff sooner rather than later. He didn't particularly want to make the man come after him for it.

Jeff didn't sound at all surprised to hear from him, which Jared had expected. He was starting to think that nothing surprised Jeff. 

"A job well done," Jeff said, when Jared was escorted into his office. "I trust you've recovered your strength?"

"Yeah," Jared said, and thrust out his hand. "Here. Your unicorn horn. We used some, sorry."

Jeff looked amused, the bastard. "I'll overlook it this once."

"Lovely. Are we done?"

"I see you've been talking to my godson." Jeff sighed, while Jared's eyes bulged at this new piece of information. "It's always his worst habits that seem to rub off on people."

"Maybe if you didn't make it so easy for people get irritated at you," Jared suggested. "Can I go now?"

"Wait."

Jeff opened the drawer in his desk and drew out a small bag made of red velvet. "Here."

Jared eyed it suspiciously. "What is it?"

"It's a gift," Jeff said. "For you. A reward for a job well done." 

"I thought Jensen not being on jail was my reward," Jared said, not moving to take it. 

Jeff smiled thinly. "It was. But that doesn't mean I can't sweeten the deal if I so choose."

"I'm fine thanks," Jared tried.

Jeff made an elegant gesture towards the bag with one hand. "Take it, Jared."

His voice never lost its pleasant edge and yet, somehow, Jared didn't dare disobey a second time. 

The bag was made of heavy, expensive fabric, and Jared weighed it awkwardly in his hand, curious and nervous in about equal measure. Fumbling open the loose knot holding it closed, Jared squared his shoulders and dumped the contents into his open hand. 

It was. Well. 

"What do you think?" Jeff asked, sounding bizarrely invested in Jared's response. 

"I think it's an oddly shaped piece of metal," Jared said. Because that was what it was. He peered more closely at what looked like part of a stylized border of interlocking squares carved into the metal at one end. "It's... a piece of something bigger?" 

"This," Jeff said grandly, "is a piece of Perseus' shield." 

"If it could hurt Jensen," Jared started, because Wikipedia had been enough to learn the basics about gorgons. And a piece of the shield that was used to defeat the gorgon Medusa didn't sound like a good thing to him. 

"Oh, no, no, it's perfectly harmless."

"Well that sounds like something worth having," Jared said dryly.

"It is profoundly worth having, as a matter of fact." Jeff gestured at the shard. "The shards of Perseus' shield are able to nullify a gorgon's ability to turn people to stone."

Jared stared at him, openly shocked. "They what?!"

"Only for the person holding it, of course."

"But, but, that's impossible!"

"And you know that for a fact, do you?" Jeff asked, sounding amused.

"Well," Jared faltered. "No, but, Jensen said-"

"Jensen can sometimes be… selective about the truths he tells. For example." Jeff eyed him with a thoughtful gleam in his eyes. "I assume he rejected your romantic overtures because it's too dangerous."

Jared scowled. "So?"

"And yet you have a class five exemption to the secrecy laws."

"I repeat: so?" 

"Has anyone told you what a class five exemption is? Of course not," he finished for himself. "Jensen would never tell you, and Danneel would consider it not her place."

"Are you actually going to say anything useful, or are you just being obscure to entertain yourself?"

"Class five grants exemption from secrecy laws on account of a permanent, romantic relationship with a monster," Jeff said, which shut Jared up pretty damn fast. "Your application was filed 19 days ago."

"D-did you-?"

Jeff smiled. "It does sound like the sort of thing I would do. But no. That was Jensen. And if he can't tell you the truth about that, how can you possible believe he's telling you the whole truth about a possible solution to your relationship issues?"

That was actually a good point, much as Jared hated to admit it.

He looked at the shard with renewed interest. "Fine, okay. If this shard thing really can protect someone from getting turned to stone - and I'm not saying that I believe you, just for the record - but if it _can_ , then…"

"Why am I giving it to you?" Jeff finished. He appeared to consider the question for a moment, then offered Jared that thin smile of his. "It's what I do."

"Give Jensen presents through third parties because he wants to beat your head in?" Jared guessed, because he was completely at a loss here.

"Jensen will know what I mean." Jeff took a deliberately showy look at his watch. "I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure we'll meet again."

"Joy," Jared deadpanned, and Jeff graced him with a smirk.

"It's somewhat refreshing, conversing with you. I'll be interested to see how much of that snark persists at our next meeting."

Jared crossed his arms over his chest. "If it hasn't been cowed out of me yet, why do you think it's going to change?"

Jeff shrugged. "Only time will tell. You might be surprised though." He clapped his hands and the horse-lady reappeared. "Kim will show you out."

The rest of the weekend felt like it took took a hundred years to pass. Jared had never been so eager to go to work in his entire life.

Jared was in work early on Monday, practically jittering with the need to see Jensen. He really needed to get the guy's phone number. He put the shard in his pocket, fingering the time-smoothed edges as he watched the clock tick ever so slowly closer to the beginning of Jensen's shift.

Of course, because the universe hated him, Danneel came by just after 11 and dragged him out to a nearby café for a talk about his position. 

Or, more specifically, his lack of position.

"I'm sorry," Danneel said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "But now that the people sending the threats have been… dealt with, we really don't need you."

"That's fine," Jared managed through the lump of lead in his throat. "I understand. Can I-?"

Danneel seemed to understand what he was asking. "You'll finish out the week with us. Trust me, I'm not letting you go anywhere without talking to Jensen. And speaking of which…" She leaned across the table with an impish grin that Jared immediately distrusted. "I think that now is a perfect time to question you about your intentions, don't you?"

Jared manfully refrained from whimpering.

By the time Danneel was done grilling him and they walked back to Muse FM, Jensen was already on the air, which just figured.

Hopefully, Jared wandered down to the recording studio - which had its door back - but the recording light was on. "Damn," he sighed, and turned to go mope in the break room for the next four hours or so.

A loud bang rang through the air, and Jared whirled, nerves on high alert. He relaxed a little when he realized that it was only Jensen, striding out of the broadcast booth like a man on a mission, his hood down and his snakes flailing wildly.

"Jensen," he greeted. "Hi."

Jensen gave no indication that he'd heard, just grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him bodily towards the recording studio

"Uh, Jensen?" Jared said nervously. He tried discreetly to wriggle out of Jensen's grip, but it was like trying to escape iron shackles. Jensen dragged him inside, only releasing his arm once the door was shut behind them.

And Jared would really have liked to indulge his curiosity and take a look around, but he wasn't sure it was a good idea to take his eyes off Jensen right now. Not when the man had crossed his arms over his chest and had his mouth set into a grim line that contrasted dramatically with the way his hair was writhing around his face in a tangled, frantic mess.

"Um?" Jared asked.

"Where is it?" Jensen demanded.

Jared's hand flew to his pocket. "It's not dangerous, is it? Oh, geez, it's super dangerous, isn't it? I knew I shouldn't have taken it."

"What? No, it's not. It's... Show me."

Obediently, Jared pulled out the shard of Perseus' shield, and Jensen huffed in what Jared recognized as disbelief. 

"Jared, where did you get that?" 

"Um, Jeff gave it to me? Is that bad? Should I give it back?"

"No!" Jensen took an abortive step forwards, fingers reaching, before he caught himself. He coughed under Jared's shocked eyes. "If you get rid of it, I am never talking to you again." 

Jared had to smile. "Because that's a measured and mature response." 

Jensen shook his head in his patented 'it's unbelievable how unaware you are' way. "Jared. That is one of the rarest magic relics in the entire world. I'm being a model of restraint here."

"It is?" Jared looked down at the uneven metal with a new appreciation. "Then why'd he give it to me?"

"That's what I want to know." Jensen started pacing, his feet making no noise on the thick carpeting. "What he did say?"

Jared shrugged. "Not much. He said it was a reward for my help with the warehouse thing. He's kind of a jerk sometimes, have you noticed?"

"He's kind of a jerk all the time. I'd be surprised if anyone hadn't noticed. What else? Tell me exactly."

"I…" Jared paused, trying to recall the precise wording of their conversation. "I asked him why he was giving it to me and not you, and he said 'it's what I do'. He said you'd under- Jensen?" he said sharply. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

"Fine," Jensen said faintly. "I'm fine."

"I call bullshit. Jensen's what's wrong?"

"That's…" A familiar flashing on the frankly intimidating bank of buttons and switches at the desk caught his eye, and Jensen cut himself off. "Hold that thought."

Jensen took a few stumbling steps and practically fell into his chair. His hands navigated the console with ease, doing Jared had no idea what. Jared watched, not sure if Jensen was about to go back on air and if he should be sneaking out silently. Or standing here and not breathing too loudly, or something.

"Wait," Jensen said, not looking up, which answered that question at least. He made no move towards the microphone nor his oversized headphones, which Jared was relieved about, just kept messing with the computer.

"Okay," Jensen said, about 30 seconds later, swiveling in his chair to face Jared. "I've put a few songs in the queue. Should give us enough time for this conversation."

"What conversation is that exactly?" Jared asked warily.

"Jeff is an Eros," Jensen said. 

"Thank you, that explains exactly nothing. What's an Eros?"

Jensen sighed. "You are such a heathen. Like a cupid." 

Jared blinked. "Like, he makes people fall in love?"

"Among his other skills, yes."

"Wow. Really? I was not expecting that."

"I'm not entirely sure I want to know what you were expecting."

"Dunno," Jared said, with a shrug. "Vampire maybe?"

"Not real."

"What? You're kidding."

Jensen shook his head. "Nope," he said, popping hard on the 'p'.

"Geez." Jared leaned a hip against the corner of the desk, shaking his head. "This 'monster are real' thing is such a disappointment sometimes. No vampires?"

"No vampires."

"Way to ruin all my dreams, Jensen. So Jeff is can make people fall in love, huh? Isn't that a little," He groped for a word. "Friendly for a monster mafia boss?" 

"Zeus give me strength." Jensen looked up at him. "Would _you_ piss off a guy who could make you fall passionately in love with a walrus?"

Jared thought about that. "Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'. Jeff earned quite the reputation when he was working his way through the organization. These days, pretty much no one dares cross him in case it ends with marriage to their sister, or something."

Suddenly, Jared thought he understood Jeff's confidence about how his attitude would improve. 

"Wait," he realized. "What does Jeff being an Eros have to do with this thing?" He brandished the shield piece.

Jensen bit his lip. "An Eros can do more than just make people fall in love."

"Like what?" Jared asked, when Jensen didn't say anything more.

Jensen took a deep breath. "They can tell when people are soulmates. And he always was a meddling bastard."

It took Jared an unforgivably long moment to figure out what Jensen was implying. His jaw dropped. "Are you…"

"Yes," Jensen said, still focusing his eyes somewhere in the direction of Jared's abs instead of his face. 

"And I…"

"Yes."

"And we-"

"-are soulmates," Jensen agreed. He directed a tight smile at the ground. "Surprise."

"Oh." Jared thought he maybe needed to sit down. "That's… woah."

Through the sunglasses, Jared got the impression that Jensen was watching him closely. "Yeah," he said, the word falling heavily into the air. There was silence for a moment, then he added, "Sorry."

Jared's head jerked up from where he'd been contemplating his shoes. "What? No! I didn't mean… I was surprised, that's all."

Jensen snorted. "Sure."

"Really, I-" Jared ran a nervous hand through his hair, sure that this was about to become embarrassing really, really fast. "God, Jensen, I just went against the monster mafia because I thought it would help you."

"So what you're saying is you're profoundly gullible when you have a crush."

"Well, yes, I guess, a little bit. But what I'm trying to say is-" He took a deep breath. "I've been drawn to you since we met. And I don't know why, but I can't deny that it's the truth. It's only been a few weeks, but I want to spend as much time as I can getting to know you. If that's what it means to be soulmates, well." He offered Jensen a helpless shrug. "It seems to me like it's just a name for a feeling I already know. Do you-?"

"Don't you start fishing for compliments," Jensen said, gruffly. "I'm not sorry that Jeff got you involved," he added abruptly. He sounded like he was spoiling for a fight. "I probably should be, since you nearly got your fool self killed, but you'd probably have walked right back out of my life if he hadn't and I. I wasn't ready for that." And, a little quieter, "I'm not sure I'm ever going to be ready."

"Soooo, does that mean I can keep this thing?" Jared asked, brandishing the shard, because romantic confessions were hella awkward. 

Jensen licked his lips. "If you want to, yeah."

Jared smiled. "I want, yeah. So," he said then, turning the shard over in his hands. "How does it work? Is it a mirror like in the story?"

One of Jensen's eyebrows arched over the top of his sunglasses. "Since when do you know about the myth of Perseus?"

"Wikipedia is my friend."

"Fair enough. Perseus' shield isn't a mirror. It never was. Myths…"

"Don't always get the details right, so I've heard. Then how did Perseus defeat Medusa? Or is that part of the story made up too?"

"Oh, he definitely killed Medusa. It just wasn't as easy as that. That," he said gesturing at the shard in Jared's hands. "Is made of a magic so old that no one's ever been able to replicate it. Yes, kind of like the Super Soldier Serum," he added, before Jared could ask exactly that.

Jared beamed at him. "See? We're already getting to know each other!"

"Getting to know your ridiculous inability to let any comment pass without making a pop culture reference, you mean. _Anyway_ , the shield was spelled to nullify Medusa's powers, which gave Perseus plenty of opportunity to cut her head off. It was put on display in the palace in Argos until his death, then it was split into pieces. Most of the pieces were lost thousands of years ago, resurfacing on the black market every now and then, or in a museum collection."

"Thank you for that history lesson. You still haven't my question though. How do I make it work?"

"I don't exactly have any practical experience with it," Jensen shot back. He huffed. "As far as I know, it just needs to be touching your skin. The ones I've seen depicted are usually worn around the neck under the shirt."

"But just holding it like this is enough?" Jared asked, hefting the shard.

Jensen spread his hands. "Your guess is as good as mine. It should."

Jared considered. "Right," he decided. "Let's give it a try."

"What?" Jensen spluttered. "Jared, are you _crazy_?"

"Considering the kind of shit I've got into in the last week, probably." Jared looked over at him. "Don't you want to know if it works?"

"Not if you might die in the process! You actually are suicidal, aren't you? Oh gods, what am I getting myself into?"

"Nothing yet," Jared said, with a touch of hilarity that was entirely inappropriate for the conversation at hand. "But if you play your cards right…"

Jensen groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I'm embarrassed to know you." He peeked up at Jared through his fingers. "Are you serious about this?"

A frantic little voice in the back of his head was screaming what the hell did he think he was doing, risking getting himself turned to stone for a guy he'd just met, but Jared ignored it. 

"I am," he said, with all the firmness he could muster. "You recognized it right away, even though it was in my pocket. It must be legit."

"But what if it isn't?"

Jared looked at him. "Would Jeff lie about us being soulmates?"

"Probably not," Jensen admitted. "He's more likely to withhold information like that rather than make it up. Morally gray as he is, Jeff still has some principles."

"And would he deliberately try to hurt you by making you kill your soulmate?"

"No." This time, Jensen's answer was firm.

"Then we're fine," Jared said, and reached for Jensen's sunglasses.

Jensen grabbed his wrist. "Jared, you need to think about this. If it doesn't work, this will kill you."

"It won't," Jared said, with more conviction than he actually felt. "Besides," he added, with a crooked almost-smile. "You being the last thing I ever see doesn't sound that bad."

Jensen's expression, what he could see of it, was anguished. "That is not romantic. If I'm wrong about Jeff, then I'm going to become your murderer. Don't make me do that."

"Jensen," Jared said, more gently. "It'll be okay."

He tugged lightly at his wrist, and was relieved when Jensen let him go. He reached again for Jensen's sunglasses and, though he could actually see the man trembling, Jensen didn't try to stop him again.

Wrapping his free hand more securely around the shield, Jared offered Jensen a tight smile and carefully tugged Jensen's sunglasses away from his face.

Jensen's breath sucked in sharply, and didn't exhale. He blinked rapidly when the sunglasses came free, and Jared found himself distracted by how long Jensen's eyelashes were for an impossibly long second before he succumbed to the inevitable and his eyes met Jensen's.

The connection sent a shock of awareness rushing through him, turning his bones to water and sending his pulse skyrocketing. He gasped, swaying back, sure that Jensen really was the last thing he was going to see.

Only nothing happened.

"Oh thank God," Jared breathed in a rush.

"You," Jensen said. "Are insane."

"But alive. Did you know your eyes are green?"

More than green, now that he was looking. Jared had the absent thought that Jensen would have had to wear sunglasses even if his stone gaze wasn't a problem, because there was no way that anyone could have looked at his eyes and thought he was a human.

Jensen's pupils were slitted, like a snake's, and his irises were a riotous explosion of green, blue and yellow that left Jared dazzled.

"Beautiful," he said, and had the pleasure of seeing Jensen's nose wrinkle in response. 

"You are such a cliché," Jensen said, though it was an absent complaint at best. There was something wondering in his expression, and his eyes were devouring Jared's face like it was his first time seeing Jared, too.

"Is it that different?" Jared asked, curious. "No, don't stop," he said, catching Jensen's chin with his free hand when Jensen would have ducked away. "I want to know."

"It's the implication of it, mostly," Jensen said, which Jared could understand.

"I like being able to see all of you," he admitted.

Jensen smiled, and Jared traced the laugh lines that spidered at the edge of his eyes with a little wonder of his own.

Jensen's breath caught, and his eyes, when they met Jared's, were full of heat.

Between one second and the next they were kissing, one of Jared's hands tangling in Jensen's snakes, while Jensen wound his arms around Jared's neck like he was never going to let go. Jared's other hand came to rest at the small of Jensen's back, the shard's edges digging lines into his fingers.

Later, he was sure, he'd regret not having got a chain to put it on, but right now Jared quite honestly couldn't care less. 

"God, Jensen," he gasped, between breathless kisses, just to hear the way it made Jensen groan. He felt his shirt bunch around his shoulders as Jensen's hands fisted in the fabric, pulling him lower so Jensen could change the angle of the kiss. The hesitancy of their first kiss had vanished, and Jared had the thought that it might not have been inexperience so much as wariness, a worry of things going wrong. 

Right now, though, Jensen clearly knew exactly what he wanted and wasn't afraid of taking it. Jared had no complaints whatsoever.

Someone rapped on the door, sudden and loud, and they both jumped.

"Wha-?" Jared asked, pulling away from the tempting warmth of Jensen's mouth to look around.

Jensen swore. "That'll be Danny," he said, abandoning Jared in favour of sliding into his chair and jamming on his headphones. "I didn't notice the warning light - the station's playing dead air right now. I'm on it, Danny!" he shouted.

"Whoops," Jared said agreeably. He was grinning from ear to ear, he realized absently. His lips felt puffy and oversensitive.

"I have to finish the program." Jensen paused, his eyes darting Jared's way. He sounded unexpectedly shy when he added, "You can stay. If you want."

It was tempting. The chance to watch Jensen do his radio show, to see him in his element and doing what he loved.

But.

"I've got my own job to do right now," Jared reminded him. He offered Jensen a hopeful smile. "Maybe another time?"

Jensen's smile was a gorgeous thing. "I'd like that."

Jared was still grinning as he left Jensen to his work and returned to the front desk to continue not having anything to do. He should probably call Jim and let him know that he'd need a new placement next week.

Instead, Jared opened his laptop and navigated to Muse FM's live stream and sat back to listen.

"And this next song is dedicated to my guy, because he's the kind of embarrassing sap who'd appreciate it." He could hear Jensen smiling as he added, "You better be listening, you slacker."

As the memorable strains of 'Can't Help Falling in Love' streamed through the speakers, all Jared could do was start counting down the minutes until he'd see Jensen at the end of the night. 

He could get to like this soulmate thing.

~fin


	2. Muse FM Liner Notes

_I drew on mythologies, religions and folklore from around the world to populate the monster side of Muse FM's character cast. My research drew from four main sources, several less useful sources and the almighty Internet (all hail). I've done my best not to misappropriate anyone's cultural traditions, although I have sometimes strayed from the source material in the interests of creative license and logical plot._

_Below is a short compilation of what I hope is all of the monster references made in the story. My main sources are cited at the bottom, because that is what being a historian does to a person. I hope these descriptions help enrich the story for you. If anyone would like more information, or would like to lambast me for getting something wrong, please feel free to drop me a line._

_clef_

Mini Bestiary

** Banshee ** (Ireland, Scotland)  
\--Danneel  
The banshee, which translates to 'Fairy Woman' or 'Woman of the Mound', is more often heard than seen. She attaches herself to certain Scottish and Irish families, or families particularly gifted with music and song. Although banshees sometimes appear to give advice, more often they appear to foretell a tragedy and their wailing, or keening, is an omen of death. Sometimes the banshee assumes the form of a sweet singing virgin of the family. More usually, she is seen at night as a shrouded woman, crouched beneath the trees, or flying past in the moonlight, lamenting with a veiled face, or combing her long flowing hair while sitting in a tree.   
The banshee is sometimes said to look like an old woman with long flowing white hair. Another description is of a woman in white (the colour of death) with a ghastly face surrounded by long red hair, and sometimes she is described as beautiful but veiled in mourning.

 **Brownie** (England, Scotland)  
\--Pat the custodian  
The brownie is a household spirit that works tirelessly on household tasks, particularly cleaning the house and tending the fields. Brownies were to be rewarded with milk or fresh cream - anything else was considered a great insult and could cause the brownie to leave in disgust. 

**Centaur** (Greece, Rome)  
\--Kim the mafia goon  
Centaurs have the body and hind quarters of a horse but the head and torso of a human. Centaurs are usually kind, generous and wise creatures, but have no tolerance for alcohol, which makes them violent, unruly drunks. 

**Clíodhna** (Ireland)  
Clíodhna is an Irish fairy who is queen of the Banshees of the Tuatha dé Danann. In some myths, she is the goddess of love and beauty.

 **Coyote** (America)  
\--Chris  
Appearing in the mythology of numerous Native American peoples, the coyote is variously a trickster, a hero, a nature spirit and a demon clown. Coyote is able to shapeshift and can be benevolent or mischievous to the point of malevolence. He is particularly known for his deceitful nature, but is also responsible for giving many gifts to mankind, including fire, artistry and husbandry.

 **Eros (pl. Erotes)** (Greece, Rome)  
\--Jeff  
The erotes are a group of winged gods associated with love and sex. They were usually portrayed as handsome, naked winged youths. The erotes are sometimes considered the messengers of Eros, the Greek god of love/sexual attraction (Roman equivalent = Cupid). Eros himself is sometimes considered a primordial god (and one of the erotes) and sometimes the son of Aphrodite, the goddess of love. Eros had the ability to make people fall in love by shooting them with his bow and arrow.  
In later periods, particularly in Renaissance art, the erotes were were typically depicted as chubby cherubs. You may have heard of them. :)

 **The Fae** (Predominantly Europe and the Middle East)  
An alternate term for 'fairies' or 'sidhe'. The fae vary in location and appearance, but generally resemble tiny humans and are usually considered beautiful. Some of the fae are benign to humans, although many have a tricksy, unreliable nature which can result in harm or humiliation for unwary humans.   
In British folklore, the fae are subdivided into two courts: the Seelie (Light/Blessed) Court and the Unseelie (Uncanny) Court. Typically, the Seelie Court is more benevolent to humans, while denizens of the Unseelie Court try to destroy humans at every opportunity.

 **Faun** (Greece, Rome)  
\--Tahmoh  
Fauns are mischievous nature spirits and often the companions of the god Faunus. They have semi-human form: they have the torso and head of a man, but the legs, hooves and horns of a goat or deer. They are guardians of the woods and wildlife.

 **Gorgon** (Greece, Rome)  
\--Jensen  
The gorgons were women with wings, great tusks, clawed hands and writhing snakes in place of hair. Any mortal who looked into a gorgon's eyes was instantly turned to stone. In Classical Greek myth, the hero Perseus was responsible for slaying Medusa, the most fearsome of the gorgons. Her severed head was placed on the aegis (breastplate) of Athena, the goddess of wisdom.

 **Hantu Pemburu** (Malaysia)  
\--Osric  
Hantu pemburu, which translates variously to 'the Hunter Spirit' or 'the Ghost Huntsman', is a fearful spirit from the folk beliefs of the Malay people of West Malaysia. Similar to the European Wild Hunt, the hantu pemburu hunts the stormy skies for those traveling alone and for the lost souls of sinners, whom he transports directly to hell. He has a pack of supernatural hounds that help him in his search.  
 _The Encyclopedia of Demons in World Religions and Cultures_ by Theresa Bane conflates the hantu pemburu with the hantu si buru (the Spirit That Hunts): a man who became a spirit/demon during his impossible hunt for a pregnant male deer. This spirit brings sickness and death to those around it.

 **The Muses** (Greece, Rome)  
\--The name of the radio station  
The nine guardian spirits of the arts in Classical Greece and Rome. Each Muse is the patron of one aspect of the arts (singing, meditation, memory, epic poetry, history, love poetry, tragedy, eloquence, dance, comedy, astronomy). They were the daughters of Zeus, king of the gods, and Mnemosyne, the nymph of memory.

 **Tengu** (Japan)  
\--the foreign exchange student  
The tengu are spirits in the Shinto traditions of Japan. They are mainly humanoid, but also possess wings and beaks. They are trickster spirits with great magical powers and the ability to shapeshift.

 **Troll** (Nordic Countries)  
\--Jensen's attackers  
Originally, Scandinavian trolls were described as cruel, ugly, massive, hairy giants who attack and eat humans. In some regions, trolls are ogres with humped backs, hooked noses and red caps. In Norway, trolls are renowned metal workers, healers and workers of magic that turn to stone if the sun shines on them.  
NOTE: Muse FM mainly uses the early concept of the hairy Scandinavian troll. 

**Unicorn** (Europe)  
The earliest accounts of the unicorn describe it as a creature with the body of a horse, legs and feet like an elephant, the tail of a boar, the head of a deer and a single black horn. Unicorn horn, also known during the European Medieval period as alicorn, was well known for its great restorative powers. It was used to purify water, heal illnesses and detect poisons.  
NOTE: This entry is focused on the European interpretation of the unicorn, developed from Greek mythic origins. The Oriental kirin/kilin has a very different character and description.

 **The Wild Hunt** (Europe)  
Led by the Wild Huntsman, the Wild Hunt is usually describe as a hoard of spirits that fly through the skies on stormy nights in search of the souls of the damned, the unbaptized and unlucky onlookers to drag them into hell. 

**The Witching Hour**  
\--the name of Jensen's radio show  
3 AM is the witching hour: the time when supernatural creatures, including demons, ghosts and witches, are at their most powerful. 

**Non-specific References**  
\--Sana, the multi-armed switchboard operator  
This character is an oblique reference to the multi-armed deities and demons of the Hindu religion. The multiplicity of arms emphasizes a deity's immense power and superhuman ability to perform many actions at once. Sana is intended to connect to this cultural tradition without representing a specific deity or demon.

Works Consulted

Franklin, Anna. _The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Fairies._ Paper Tiger: London, 2004. Print.

Page, Michael and Robert Ingpen. _Encyclopedia of Things That Never Were._ Penguin: New York, 1985. Print.

Rose, Carol. _Giants, Monsters and Dragons: An Encyclopedia of Folklore, Legend and Myth._ WW Norton and Company: New York, 2000. Print.

\--- _Spirits, Fairies, Leprechauns and Goblins: An Encyclopedia._ WW Norton and Company: New York, 1996. Print.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Acknowledgements:** Massive thanks to dollarformyname for picking my summary and for making some gorgeous art despite so many other things getting in her way. She's so wonderfully talented and I am beyond lucky to get to work with such amazing artists year after year for this challenge. Your enthusiasm and determination have been truly amazing to experience, hon; I'm delighted that we finally got to work together after all this time! Everyone make sure to check out her [Art Post](http://dollarformyname.livejournal.com/85500.html) and take a look at all the lovely things!
> 
> Hugs and thanks to dugindeep for being my sounding board, whip cracker and sprint partner. I missed you in the end process, my dear, *shakes fist at life* but it wouldn't have happened at all without your help, so thank you! Thanks also to Laura for the quick and dirty beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Thanks as always to wendy for keeping this ship afloat year after year! This is my seventh year participating, and it's a (stressful) delight every year. You rock, Wendy!
> 
> And finally, thanks to all of you for reading! This one kind of took on a life of its own, so I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> \---
> 
>  
> 
> **Please do not post my work on Goodreads or any other third party site.**


End file.
